Schonberg High School
by TheClassof1832
Summary: The Mizzies are all in high school! With Valjean as the principal, of course! Will the Les Amis win the homecoming football game? Will Grantaire pass history class? And what's up with Enjolras and the Drum Major? Slight Enjolras/OC. Humorous, sort of. AU AU AU
1. Chapter 1

**Alright! So I'm alive... And I'm going to write a Mizzies in high school story! I've had little ideas for one of these, so I thought I'd give it a try.**

**Enjolras: Disclaimer.**

**Me: Fine. I don't own Les Miz. Happy?**

**Enjolras: Yes.**

* * *

"They're here, Mr. Valjean." The principal's secretary said with a slight laugh. Mr. Valjean looked up from a note on his desk, smiling slightly. The whole office staff had made a small bet on how long it would take for them to be sent to his office the first week, and Valjean had won by a day.

The old-but-not-too-old principal got up and leaned out the door. "Alright, come in, Remy. You too, Julien."

A tall, almost lanky young man stood first. He would've been considered the best-looking guy on campus if he wasn't scowling all the time. But with friends like his, Julien Enjolras had his reasons.

And right now, his reason for the sour look on his face was Remy Grantaire. Remy was the village idiot of their group of friends, and the exact opposite of Julien. Or Enjolras, as he was usually called. While Enjolras was the captain of almost every sports team known to man and a member of the debate team, Grantaire participated in almost nothing at Schonberg High School, except football. But ALL of their friends played football, including a reluctant Marius Pontmercy.

"So, boys, what seems to be the problem?" Valjean inquired as Enjolras finally had himself situated a fair distance away from Grantaire in one of the chairs facing Valjean's desk.

"Grantaire..." Enjolras began, searching for the right words. "Grantaire asked the Drum Major out for me."

"And that's a problem? That caused you to," the principal looked at the report from Mr. Thenardier, the shop teacher who had encountered the fight, "throw a history book at Grantaire's head?"

"Yes, it is a problem! And yes, I admit, I threw the book at him!"

"Oh, you're just worked up because she said yes," Grantaire grumbled from his spot. "Hey, Mr. V, I wasn't hurt or anything. Can we just go?" He started to get up. "Or we're going to be late to Mr. Mackintosh's theatre class. And you know how he gets..." He looked pointedly to Enjolras, who still glared at him angrily, but got up anyway.

"Yeah, I mean, it's noon on the second day, Mr. Valjean, sir." Enjolras pointed out. "Grantaire's right; we shouldn't keep our teachers waiting over such a ridiculous and juvenile event."

Mr. Valjean smiled, the lines by his eyes crinkling merrily. He stood and nodded. "Go on then. Go." He told them. "And Enjolras! You better be ready for Webber High this Friday!"

Enjolras, the junior quarterback and football captain, turned back to the principal. "Oh, we'll show them again. They can't be any worse than last year."

(The Schonberg Steamers had beaten the Webber Lords 35-3 last year.)

Valjean dismissed Enjolras once more and sat back in his seat. His secretary, Fantine, peeked in. "Everything alright?" She asked.

"Yes, of course. Enjolras has a temper on him, but he can't stay mad at his friends for too long. He understands their importance." He replied. "A fine trait in a man as young as him."

"Shall I tell Mackintosh that Grantaire and Enjolras will be late?"

"No, no. Something tells me that he has just received the two..."

Enjolras slid into the last remaining seat in Mr. Mackintosh's classroom, not realizing that he was sitting next to his new "girlfriend" as Grantaire had started to call her. Rosie Mitchell was the junior Drum Major, and the girl who had been the bane of Enjolras' existence since the sixth grade. They didn't respect each other at all; they preferred it like that.

"Julien." She stated coldly, not looking up from her Jane Austen novel. Enjolras cringed. Rosie purposely called him by his first name.

"Rose." He said. "I heard you accepted Grantaire's... Proposal of a date with me."

"Only to observe what makes you so painfully irritating. That, and I knew Grantaire was doing it for a joke. My accepting would annoy you even further." Rosie explained as if it were the simplist thing on Earth.

"I hate you." He grumbled as the class started.

Rosie smiled into her book. "The feeling is mutual."

Grantaire and Enjolras both rejoiced when the bell rang, meaning they only had one period left; free period. Enjolras retreated to the library to meet Combeferre and Marius, while Grantaire left for the day. He didn't see the point of having free period at the end of the day, but did allow for him to have a nap between school and practice. Grantaire didn't complain.

Enjolras had many complaints, however.

"B-But Eponine! That is MY SPOT. That has been my spot since Freshman year!" Enjolras declared, holding a Robespierre book in his hand. The thin, dark-haired girl shrugged.

"Marius' Barbie doll took my spot," she sighed casually.

In Eponine's usual spot, a blonde girl sat, listening to Marius explain his politics book, giggling and touching his arm. Enjolras inwardly gagged; how anyone wanted a clingy, needy girl like that, he didn't understand. If he ever dated, he'd want a girl who would know who she was.

But he kept his thoughts to himself, as the Barbie doll was the principal's daughter, Cosette. (And he did not have any intentions of visiting Mr. Valjean again. Or worse, Mr. Javert, the Vice-Principal.)

He ended up sitting, much to his dismay, with Rosie. She wasn't much of a bother though, especially when she was working on homework. Enjolras watched her scrawled writing rush across a page in her English notebook, noticing that it was almost loopy, and cursive like, but unconnected.

"Your handwriting's funny." He mumbled. She glared at him. "It's interesting, I mean."

"Well, I'm always in a hurry, Enjolras. Something I'm sure you can relate to." The final bell rang and Rosie got up. "See you tomorrow, Enj."

Rosie left and Enjolras leaned back in his chair. She had actually called him Enjolras. And Enj...

"I think she likes you," Eponine whispered. Enjolras mentally twitched.

There was no way Rosie liked him... Was there?

* * *

**I'm sorry about the OC and dumb jock!jolras... He'll get better, I promise! **

**Also, are the high school names too tacky?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Awe, I am sorry I deleted Apollo and Athena, if any of you guys were wondering. But... Hugo purists scare the crap outta me. And I'm no Enjy; Although he and I share a temper, I am fairly passive. **

**(But if you annoy me, watch out. You might have an unabridged copy of Les Mis with YOUR name on it... Flying toward your face...)**

**Enjolras: Temper! What temper of mine do you speak of?**

**Me: Honey, you threw a history book at Grantaire...**

**Grantaire: Exactly...**

**I sadly do not own these two... Or les mis. There's no room in my closet to fit them. (My walls do have pictures of Ramin Karimloo, though. ;) )**

* * *

Enjolras closed his locker to find a trail of cough drops scattered down the semi-abandoned hallway. He sighed; there was only one person in his school who carried that many cough drops at any time. And he wasn't talking about the school nurse.

He followed the trail to find his friend, Michel Joly, leaning against a row of lockers, coughing and wheezing as usual. Joly was a hypochondriac, so he was always sick. This school year, Joly seemed obsessed with pneumonia; that explained the cough. Joly was the football team's placekicker and the only one of the Amis who didn't technically play offense. Enjolras was concerned though; he couldn't have any member of the team sick.

"Joly, do you need a ride?" He asked. Joly sneezed and shook his head.

"No. The nurse is letting me," he sneezed suddenly, "stay in her office until practice."

The nurse was also Joly's aunt, so Enjolras figured he would be fine.

On his way out the building, Enjolras spotted Rosie with her group of friends, chilling out on the brand-new football field that the school's athletic boosters had raised funds for. Rosie's dad was a big supporter of Schonberg High's athletics, so the field might as well be hers. And Enjolras's, considering his dad was on the school board. The poms captains, Katie and Christie Zane, waved to him cheerfully. He acknowledged them, but rushed to his car. Courfeyrac "loved" both of them; they had slight reputations with football players.

Enjolras sighed as he reached his car. In a way, his car was his "happy place". The red Camero had been a sixteenth birthday present, and he took great pride in taking care of the car. His duffel bag with his football equipment sat in the backseat, freshly washed. Closing his eyes, Enjolras took a deep breath.

A knock on the glass interrupted his meditations. Enjolras opened one eye to see Rosie looking into the car. He rolled the window down and sighed.

"Yes?"

"My car won't start." She stated.

"Isn't that your problem?" Enjolras inquired. Rosie let out an exasperated huff. "Yes, it is your problem. So don't bother me about it."

"You are impossible!" Rosie exclaimed. "I need a ride, moron."

Enjolras looked at her skeptically. "You can't get a ride from Christie? Or Katie?"

"No, I can't. Enjolras-"

"You're calling me Enjolras... Not Julien. Are you ill?" Enjolras questioned jokingly. Rosie sighed. "Alright, alright. I'll give you a ride."

Much to Enjolras' pleasure, and slight disdain, he and Rosie lived on the same street, so he dropped her off quickly. She slipped into her cozy little ranch home that she shared with her mother and father, not saying a word to Enjolras about his giving her a ride. He shrugged it off; her thanks didn't mean much to him.

When he walked through the door into his large home, his stomach rumbled.

"So now you're playing the song of your people..." He mumbled as he wandered into the kitchen.

Thankfully, his mother had been baking that morning, so Enjolras was greeted by a tray of cream puffs. As he snacked, he caught his reflection in the sliding door to the backyard.

His blonde hair was wild, as usual, falling to his ears in length. Even though he ate nearly nonstop, he was thin like a twig, lacking a lot of muscle. That led a lot of football teams to underestimate him; the defense thought because of his size he was an easy sack. But they learned that he could run. And throw. ("I'm a perfect combination of Tim Tebow and Tom Brady," Enjolras had joked to the local newspaper after a decent run during the playoffs.)

His throw had become legendary during his sophomore year, when Schonberg's senior quarterback, Hadley Fraser, had been injured by the Guardston Nationals Penn State bound senior, Johnson Ackland. To a sophomore, Ackland had seemed like Goliath and Enjolras had seemed panicked when Coach Boubil had him go on the field.

But Enjolras found himself back in the pocket before he knew what was happening.

And Ackland had taken him down. Hard.

Though all it took was some inspiring words from wide receiver, Ramin Karimloo, to get Enjolras in the game. He threw for two-hundred yards that game, nearly breaking the school record.

And he had been "Mr. Popular" ever since.

In all honesty, Enjolras missed being the freshman nobody, who was just on the Varsity roster for show. Life had been easier then; he had been able to idolize the upperclassmen without looking like an idiot. Now he was the upperclassman, and he hated it. All he wanted was to graduate and go to college, and do what HE wanted. Football had been his dad's idea; not his.

"Julien! I'm home!" Julien Enjolras, Sr. shouted into the house, closing the door behind him. Enjolras dropped his second cream puff and rushed out to see his father. Enjolras the Elder greeted his son, putting an arm around his shoulders. "You won't believe who I talked to today! I was on the phone with Brian Kelly, the Notre Dame head football coach, for an hour! He said he wants to see some clips of you playing, and that he's heard about the skinny quarterback from Schonberg, Illinois! Think of it, Julien! Notre Dame football!"

"That's great, dad. But remember? I was planning to go out east for Ivy League schools? I want to be a lawyer, dad, not a football player." Enjolras stated tiredly. They'd had this conversation many times; Enjolras the Elder had NFL dreams for his son, while Enjolras dreamed of being the District Attorney for New York City.

"You'll have time for law school later; maybe after a Super Bowl or tw-"

"Dad, are you listening to me? I don't want to be a football player for life. I want to be a lawyer. I want to right wrongs. Hm, maybe I could be a defense attorney? What do you think?" Enjolras asked in an attempt to change the subject.

"And have to handle all those modern psychopaths? Why? You know, if you played football-"

"Well, Atticus Finch was a defense attorney technically. And he was-"

"Fictional," Mr. Enjolras finished for his son. "Now, you've got to get to practice! Coach Boubil is going to think you've disappeared!"

And Enjolras left for practice, furious at his father. The presence of a Notre Dame scout at practice didn't help, either.

* * *

I feel sort of bad; I injured Hadders! :'( Aw.

Well, Modern!Enjy's dad is sort of obnoxious, but I imagine his modern counterpart being one of those dads who has his son's life planned out for him.

And modern!Joly loves cough drops... :)

Review; it makes Enjolras happier.

~TheClassof1832


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so this chapter has Jehan! And Jehan has nightmares, which lead to midnight conference calls. (Which Enjolras hates.)**

* * *

"Seriously, Jehan? The guillotine?" A drowsy Enjolras sighed into the phone. There were other moans and groans of agreement from the others on the conference call. But they weren't discouraging Jehan.

"Yes! It was quite vivid! You were going to be executed, Enjolras! And the rest of us were dead! I have got to see what this means..." Jehan rambled.

"Jehan, your dreams are so crazy, no one knows what they mean." Grantaire grumbled. Courfeyrac's cheerful laugh was easily heard. Enjolras was amazed; even after a highly strenuous practice late that afternoon, Courfeyrac was still happy at midnight. (Yes, midnight. Most of the guys were not happy with Jehan for the call...)

"Well, I think the dream means Jehan's dreading something," Combeferre provided. "Death is one of people's greatest fears; even though heights, flying and public speakin-"

"Your point, Combeferre?" Marius interrupted.

"My point is, if death is in Jehan's dream, he must be afraid for something." Combeferre stated plainly.

"Perhaps it has to do with a girl?" Bousset provided. "Considering Enjolras is the only of us who is seemingly immune to them, the fact that he's being led to his death and we're all already dead-"

"Oh, now that's just ridiculous!" Enjolras growled. "I'd prefer it actually mean my death."

"Now that I think about it," Jehan yawned, "there was a girl there. Dressed in all white, except for a tricolor sash around her waist. . ."

"Hmm, like Patria?" Courfeyrac inquired.

"Who's Patria?" Combeferre mumbled. Enjolras sighed; they all were tired, but Combeferre was always going, going, going at school. He needed sleep more than the rest of them.

"In the brick that Mrs. Magloire made us read, this character named Enjolras said his lover is Patria. Funny, though. Patria means fatherland, depending on how you translate it. I get the author's point, bu-"

"You mean Enjolras in Victor Hugo's Les Miserables?" Jehan questioned. "Enj, isn't that where your family name comes from?"

"Yeah. We always joke that Hugo's Enjolras might not have been as pure as he's written, and that he's my some-crazy-amount-times-great-grandfather." Enjolras said. Grantaire chuckled.

"Well, that's funny, Enjy, really. I'm just dying of how funn-"

"Grantaire, isn't it past your bedtime?" Courfeyrac chided mockingly. Enjolras obviously snorted, and that caused Combeferre to wake up.

"Whaa?" Combeferre muttered into the phone. There was a chorus of sighs, and Joly spoke up.

"You know, this lack of sleep is really bad for us. Especially Combeferre. Let's all hang up. And whoever has a good idea about Jehan's dream can write it down and share it tomorrow at lunch." He decided.

"Alright, you guys heard Joly. Get to sleep." Enjolras groaned, hanging up.

Enjolras stared at the ceiling of his bedroom for a long time. Jehan had lots of crazy dreams from time to time (including one about Grantaire figure skating; don't ask), but none of them had ever been described as "vivid". Death didn't frighten Enjolras, but Bousset's theories did. What if he fell for a girl? That would make him a complete hypocrite. Enjolras was plenty of things, but not a hypocrite.

He flipped on the TV lazily to find some musical concert on public television. The music calmed him down, despite the fact that the lyrics were slightly depressing. The Policeman guy who was singing was practically saying that the main character would be found and burn in hell.

"Cheerful," Enjolras noted to himself.

He eventually drifted off to sleep, dreaming, strangely enough, of barricades and random red vests.

The next morning, Enjolras was painfully tired. Joly was right; late night phone calls were not good for him. Or any of them. Before getting up, Enjolras checked his phone to see that he had a text. From Rosie. He reluctantly opened it, and groaned.

_I got your # from R. Hope that's okay. Anyways, I need a ride to school. Could you please give me one? I'll be over at 7:15 to go. -Rosie_

"Of course," Enjolras grumbled as he replied. "It would be my pleasure."

When he came downstairs, he heard his mother talking with someone.

"And when he was five, he managed to set his kids chemistry set on fire! I had told him to wait for Combeferre to try it, but he was so eager!" He entered the living room to see his mother showing Rosie old family photos, telling the story that went with each of them. In Rosie's hands was a blueberry muffin, untouched.

"Mom!" Enjolras whined. "Don't show HER those photos!"

"Oh, Julien, you never have had any patience. She knows that." His mother sighed. "He thinks this photo is embarrassing. In all honesty, I have no idea how his hair grew back so well on that side! That's why he wore it short so much when he was a little boy."

Rosie drew her attention to Enjolras. "I brought you a muffin," she said. "My mom made them this morning." She tossed him the muffin.

"Oh, thanks." Enjolras mumbled. He took a bite of the muffin, looking at his watch. "We should go; it's 7:20."

Rosie got up and walked out the door. Enjolras trailed after her boredly, when his mother said, "She's sweet, Enjolras. I like her."

That made him stop short of the door.

"You don't have to go to school with her." He noted.

* * *

**Gah, this chapter's a little short. Oh well. Jehan has funny dreams, apparently. Geez, what are we going to do with these artsy people? **

**Enjolras: BONUS POINTS IF YOU CAN TELL US WHAT I WAS WATCHING ON TV!**

**Grantaire: Well, that's easy! It wa-**

**Me: *stuffs dirty PE sock in Grantaire's mouth***

**Grantaire: *gag***

**Oh, and if any of you were wondering, Cammack and the French guys don't want to give me Les Mis. I know; they said giving Enjolras a girlfriend would make the musical too long! Blech. IT'S ALREADY THREE HOURS LONG. **

**Also, ponder this thought: Disney-ified Les Mis. Like? Dislike? Why?**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey y'all! I'm baaaacccccckkkkk! And Enjy has a few surprises in this chapter.**

**And Javvie is in this chapter!**

**Javert: I AM THE LAWR AND THE LAWR IS NOT MOCKED.**

**All: Okaayyyy thennn...**

**I don't own Enjolras, or Grantaire, or Les Mis, or Javert... Or Ramin Karimloo (sadly).**

* * *

Vice Principal Javert had seen many things in his twenty years at Schonberg High. But the quarterback and football captain kissing the drum major had been a surprise when he saw them forced together at, regrettably, eight-fifteen in the morning. The culprit in the forced PDA was Remy Grantaire, who had already come up with a fantastic excuse as to why he had forced the top students of his class together.

"They need to lighten up." He had explained to the high-strung VP. "A little kissing never hurt anybody."

But Mr. Javert knew better. Rosie Mitchell's dad worked for a big supporter of the school, Mr. Dickenson. If anything happened to his daughter - teen pregnancy, loss of virginity, grades slipping because of a boy - they could lose an important piece in their school community. Mr. Mitchell did a lot for both athletics and the arts; his leaving would only set the school back a few years.

And Julien Enjolras's father was on the school board, which was an advantage to his son. But also a disadvantage if his son were to misbehave, as everyone from the elementary principals to the superintendent knew Julien Enjolras, Jr. But then again, how could they not? With the records he'd set at the school, the whole town knew his name.

Now all three of the people involved with the incident were sitting in Mr. Javert's office. Rosie squirmed awkwardly; she hardly ever went into the office, unless she was sick or acting to get out of PE. Enjolras sat up straight, still in shock over what Grantaire had done. Grantaire was the only one sitting comfortably.

"If anything," Javert began, "I would expect Enjolras being forced onto a cheerleader or one of the Zane twins. For him to be forced onto Ms. Mitchell is surprising. And highly inappropriate."

"Mr. Javert, Rosie and I did nothing wrong." Enjolras stated. "Can't we be dismissed to homeroom?" Javert looked at Enjolras with distaste.

"Not until I see that justice is done."

So Rosie and Enjolras both told their sides of the story; Grantaire had come up behind them while they were talking and had forced Rosie into Enjolras' arms, then manipulating them into a kiss.

Grantaire said he was just relieving the sexual tension between the two.

Nevertheless, Mr. Javert was not amused.

"Detention for Remy Grantaire," he decided. "Julien, Rosie, you may go."

Enjolras and Rosie walked down the hall and Enjolras tugged off his red Varsity jacket. His white t-shirt sleeve was slightly up, and Rosie could see the edges of a tattoo. Her eyes widened; Enjolras was only seventeen. You had to be eighteen to get a tattoo.

"How'd you get that?" She asked, lifting up the sleeve a bit more.

"Hey, hey, hey! Only the guys know I have this!" He exclaimed, pulling the sleeve back down slightly. "I got it while Ramin and Hadley were back in town; Ramin had this cool tribal tattoo and I had told him I liked it. So we went down to one of the... Less sketchy tattoo parlors in town and had the artist copy Ramin's."

"So you and he have matching tattoos?" Rosie asked. Enjolras shrugged.

"They look somewhat different when you see them next to each other. He has more than me; I've got two. He has... I don't even know." Enjolras told her.

"Where's the other one?"

"On my forearm; I put foundation over it to hide it during the day."

The two entered their homeroom when the teacher turned and looked at Enjolras' arm. His sleeve was still rolled up partially and he gulped.

"Julien, do your parents know about that?" Mrs. Thenardier inquired. Enjolras looked her square in the eyes, not flinching.

"Maybe they do, maybe they don't." He replied, sitting down at his desk. Rosie quietly sat at hers, not saying anything.

"How many of you knew about Mr. Enjolras' tattoo?" She questioned the class. Combeferre caved and raised his hand, followed by Jehan and Courfeyrac. Almost the whole football team ended up raising their hands.

"Is this the only tattoo Mr. Enjolras has?"

They all stayed quiet; Rosie wondered what the one on his forearm was.

"Okay then. Julien, I will not call your parents. I do not find it nesscessary. But I am surprised."

The class went back to reading, doing homework, or whatever they did in homeroom. Rosie was scribbling down a note.

_Sorry you got caught. What do you have on your forearm?_

She passed the note up to Enjolras, who opened it and smirked.

He uncapped his red pen that he only used for passing notes and wrote a reply.

_Its sort of a Gothic-style cross with Les Amis de l'Abaisse written above it. That's what the boys and I call each other; we share so many names with Hugo's Les Amis that it just stuck. I figure it'll never look weird because my last names's Enjolras, after all._

He passed the note back and Rosie was curious about what it looked like. Perhaps if she asked him to show it to her, he would. Knowing Enjolras and his love of history, it couldn't be a modern Gothic style cross. It would look older, like something you'd find in a cathedral in Europe.

Rosie was surprised about what she'd learned about Enjolras that day; but he still had some things to learn about her, too.

* * *

**Oh Ramin... You inspire so much of my fanfiction. **

**If you're curious about what Enjolras' bicep/shoulder tattoo looks like, you can google 'Ramin Karimloo tattoos'. One of them has a good picture of Ramin's Moari tribal tattoo on his upper arm; that's what Enjolras' main one looks like. I might post a pic of how I picture the cross on his forearm; the Les Amis part is probably in cursive and curved like a half circle, I imagine.**

**Also, I think I'm going to give Rosie a secret piercing; perhaps her belly button? I can picture Katie and Christie pressuring her into getting one.**

**Until next time!**

**~TheClassof1832**

**PS**

**Combeferre is my lover...**


	5. Chapter 5

**We interrupt your normally scheduled Author's Note to bring you this fangirl rant:**

**Ohmigawd HADDERS! I love his Marius almost as much as I love his Grantaire. But he'll always be R to me. And his voice is so pretty! It's obvious at times that he went to school for performing arts because he's much more polished than dear, dear Ramin. He's also fairly man-pretty, if you think of his Raoul. Not as pretty as Raminjolras, but close enough. *squee***

**... Anyways, I have a lot of love for my West End boys. (Including Craig Mather, who is completely adorkable.) **

**This chapter will show Rosie's relationship with her friends; Katie, Christie, Makenzie, Luna and Annabelle. They each have a similar personality to a Ami as well. Feel free to guess who! (Hint: Rosie is the Enjolras counterpart. Notice the way she interacts with the girls.)**

* * *

Rosie Mitchell's mind was clogged with tattoos and football players' biceps for the rest of the school day. She was so unfocused that her friend Katie had to throw a paper ball at her in her favorite class, Mr. Christophe's History class. Enjolras had rolled up his sleeves a la Sodapop from The Outsiders. (It hadn't taken the whole school to find out about his tattoo.)

"Mitchell!" Mr. Christophe exclaimed. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing, Mr. Christophe. I'm just... Tired." Rosie fibbed. Christophe obviously didn't buy it, but he didn't say anything. Christie passed her a note.

_Rosie, what's wrong? You're never spacey in Christophe's._

Enjolras watched Rosie write what looked like notes. He was surprised; French History was not her thing. She was very good at American and British History, but ask her who Victor Hugo or Chretien de Troyes are and she'll stare at you like you're crazy. (Well, she was mostly blocking Hugo's run-on sentences from her memory, and she knew Chretien de Troyes was the one to romanticize Arthurian lore. That was about it.)

_Enjolras' tattoo, _Rosie wrote to Christie. _It's so distracting. His attractiveness is keeping me from taking full advantage of my academic offers. And my dad would flip if I brought home a guy with a tattoo. . ._

_Ohh,_ Christie replied. _Rosie! You don't like Enjolras, do you?_

The bell rang suddenly and Rosie stuffed the note into her pocket. She caught up with the rest of her group and they headed to Mr. Mackintosh's class. In the front of the class was a large red flag and a collage of former Les Miserables cast members.

Rosie let out an awkward squeak. As a sophomore, she had worshipped Ramin Karimloo, who had been the senior star of the drama department. He had moved to London eventually and was now starring in many West End productions. Hadley had gone with him and they were the best of friends.

"Rosie, don't lose your cool." Katie whispered.

It was too late though; Rosie was already slightly geeking out.

Enjolras, however, was not excited. Mr. Mackintosh was probably expecting him to know anything and everything about the show, and he really didn't.

But Mr. Mackintosh fanboyed the entire class, making the rest of the day painless. Rosie and the girls went down to the gym to practice a secret routine they already had planned for homecoming. Rosie, although not in poms, was a fairly good dancer. She had taken pointe for four years now and was rather graceful. Christie and Katie, however, were into hip-hop and jazz; they could move much more provocatively than Rosie. And the poms captains had made it their goal to take their drum major from soft beauty to stunning seductress.

They had even picked out her first prey: Julien Enjolras.

"No, no, no!" Katie sighed. "Don't act like you're dancing for Shawna or Tammy. Be a little more dirty. We're dancing to a remix of Hey Big Spender, after all."

(Katie was the wild one; the boys all loved her.)

Christie, the voice of reason, spoke up. "Dance like it's just Enjolras watching," she provided. "Or we could just do the lyrical routine."

Rosie gulped. Dance like she would for Enjolras? Why would she dance for him? Their other friends, Luna, Makenzie, and Annabelle all whistled as Rosie retried the dance, trying to just let loose. Katie watched with a pleased expression on her face while Christie wandered off to work on homework.

"That was great!" Katie quipped as she cut the music. "Fantastic, really. And school's over! You know what that means..."

Every other Friday the girls went shopping after school so they would have another opinion on everything they purchased.

A fact should be noted about Schonberg; there was a large number of upper-middle-class/wealthy students at the school. Katie and Christie probably being at the top of the totem pole. (Their father was the president of a bank.) Luna's father worked for the government, Annabelle's dad was a surgeon, and Makenzie's dad was a contractor. Rosie was the "poorest" of the group, but was fortunately a frugal child who saved a LOT money from birthdays, Christmas, etc. And she worked A LOT during the summer; whether it was for the drama department, babysitting, or being a camp counselor at a music camp, Rosie did it just to keep up with her shopaholic friends.

"I can't believe your car still isn't working," Katie sighed to Rosie as they exited.

"I think Grantaire pulled the spark plugs." Luna said dryly. (Luna was the group cynic; the opposite of Rosie.)

"Well, Enjolras is nice enough to give me a ride, thankfully." Rosie said as they climbed into Luna's SUV.

"Oh of course," Annabelle said with a smile. "But we all actually want to know what happens in the backseat..."

Makenzie laughed but began to have a coughing fit. Annabelle patted her on the back; those two were best friends, just like Christie, Katie and Rosie were a trio.

Rosie blushed a bright red, making all the girls "ooh" as if they believed she was naughtier like Katie. But she wasn't; Rosie had never even been kissed. (Until today, of course, but to her it didn't count.

"So, where's the football game tonight?" Makenzie asked as soon as she was done coughing.

"Uh, my dad said something about Webber?" Rosie guessed.

"Oh, okay. So the guys are probably gone."

"Yeah, probably." Katie agreed.

"Good! So I can text Enjolras and tell him about how much Rosie loooovveeesssss him!"

"DON'T!" Rose shrieked, grabbing Makenzie's phone.

"Oh, we're just kidding. But I did send him a text telling him about your belly button piercing." Makenzie said.

Rosie gulped.

"Great..."

* * *

**So as you can see, Rosie isn't exactly the saint people make her out to be. Sort of like Enjy and the tat. **

**Anyway, if you're wondering what cast I'm using, it's pretty much the 25ac cast, but with the Enjolras being a blonde doppelgänger Karimloo. **

**Katie looks a bit like Jennifer Grey pre-nose job.**

**Christie looks like Meg from the '04 Phantom disaster.**

**Annabelle has a Southern girl look, as does Makenzie.**

**Luna's goth...**

**Rosie... She's sort of a mini Sierra Boggess, but with darker eyes and a slightly different nose. (Only reason she looks like Sierra is because I LOVE her and Ramin's relationship; if he weren't married and she weren't engaged, I would mistake them for a married couple on their interviews. God, just the way he looks at her says "I love you but I shouldn't" at times. . .)**

**Fangirl rant done. **

**-TheClassof1832**


	6. Chapter 6

**Whoo! Football time! My school just won their first game under a new head coach, so I'm totally pumped!**

**Also, this chapter has a bit of a title, "Not Exactly What You Thought." There's a bit of drama between Rosie and Enjolras. **

* * *

Barton Memorial Field at Webber High was abuzz with excitement; it was the first time in six years that the Lords had led the Schonberg Steamers at the half. Enjolras retreated into the locker room after the rest of his team. He had been sacked three times in the first quarter alone; twice in the second. He was achy and exhausted. Webber was making sure he couldn't sit back in the pocket for long; he figured it was one of Webber's Coach Osmond's strategies. Enjolras was usually cool as ice on the field, but he was worked up now.

"Enjolras!" Coach Boubil yelled. "You can't stand around in the pocket any longer. That Che kid will be chasing you down. See him coming; you better run."

"Alright." Enjolras stated. "I can do that."

The coach also went over other errors; Grantaire's fumble, and some defensive problems for Montparnasse and other linemen to worry about. There was a knock on the locker room door and Mr. Enjolras stormed in, pulling Enjolras to his feet by the collar of his jersey.

"What the HELL is wrong with you!" He shouted. "Do you know what your mother said when she saw that tattoo? She said "I can't believe that my boy is inked like some motorcycle gang member". Julien, this is NOT at all what we expected from you. You better watch yourself when you get home. You're walking on eggshells, my boy."

Enjolras didn't even blink and kept a straight face. He wasn't the perfect son anymore, but he didn't care. He was his own person.

"Well, I'm sorry dad. Not exactly what you thought, huh?"

Mr. Enjolras turned and walked out of the room. Everyone was quiet; Enjolras was always headstrong and stubborn, but usually he just shrugged off whatever his dad said.

"You know what?" He asked his teammates. "Don't act so shocked. He's the one who's going to be shocked by the end of the night. You know why? Because I'm going to lead this team, just like before. And we're going to win, just like usual. Because Webber High is NOTHING. Now let's go out there, and show them that we're the best for a reason!"

And the Schonberg Steamers charged back onto the field, the look on Enjolras' face inspiring fear in the majority of the Lords. The Steamers scored a touchdown and Joly successfully kicked the extra point, tying the game at 10-10.

With a successful defense, the Steamers held back the Lords to cause the home team to not score the whole second half. Joly saved the team once more with a Hail Mary field goal with one minute remaining, the Steamers winning 10-13.

On the bus ride home, the first thing Enjolras did was check his phone. He had a text from one of Rosie's friends.

_I bet you didn't know this, but Rosie isn't the saint she pretends to be. In fact, she has her belly button pierced. Want to see?_

Enjolras threw his phone into his duffel bag, a little angry. He had no idea how Rosie of all people could have a piercing other than her ears. He thought she had been the girl-next-door type of person, but she had a wild side. Maybe she was just as bad as Katie, Enjolras considered.

Enjolras decided to confront her when he got home. It was Friday, so he knew she would be at his neighbor's, the Zane's.

And he was correct, for despite the time (midnight), he could hear giggling from the Zane's hot tub. Combeferre followed him inside, as it was their post-game tradition to have a guy's night filled with old action, mafia, and sci-fi movies.

"I'll see you in a bit," he told Combeferre. "I've got to take care of something."

He stormed across the yard into what was the Zane's backyard. He couldn't decide which one was Rosie just yet because it was so dark, but he knew that when he saw her, they'd be having a long talk. Katie and Christie spotted him first, though, and waved.

"Enjolras!" They exclaimed. "Coming over to join us?"

"No." He said frankly. "I need to talk with Rosie."

Rosie turned around and looked at him, smiling at first, but then frowning. He grabbed her arm and she stood up, practically falling out of the hot tub. Enjolras caught her, but quickly put her back on her feet. Rosie was in a two-piece bikini, as was the signature style for most of the girls on the block, and he could see the piercing.

"What?" She asked.

"You have your belly button pierced!" Enjolras declared. Rosie scowled.

"Yeah. And you have a tattoo. So?" Rosie put her hands on her hips.

"That's different."

"No it's not! Enjolras, don't you dare start putting yourself on a pedestal like you're better than me!" Rosie huffed. Enjolras glared at her.

"I am not putting myself on a pedestal!" He argued.

"Oh, I see. Then you're being a hypocrite?"

Enjolras grabbed her arm and pulled her close, his eyes locked on hers.

"I might be many things, Rosie, but I am not a hypocrite."

"Then you obviously stereotyped me. I'm not exactly what you thought, Enjolras. Am I?" She questioned softly, almost in a whisper.

He released her and turned to walk home. He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see Rosie chasing after him with a cover-up on.

"What now?" He inquired.

"I don't think you should chastise me," Rosie told him. "You need to understand that I'm not a little girl, Enjolras. We may have all grown up together, but you've missed the fact that I've done just that."

"As have I, so you shouldn't act as if I have no control over what I decide is right or wrong."

Rosie trailed after him into his house, trying to come up with something to say. Combeferre watched with shock as Enjolras sat down on the couch, ignoring the girl next to him.

"Shouldn't you be with Katie and Christie talking about boys?" Combeferre joked. Rosie rolled her eyes; Combeferre was the only Ami she was really genuinely close with. They had been in band together since the fifth grade and were section leaders last year in marching band.

"Not tonight. Tonight is when Katie picks out outfits for all of us for the week."

"How nice," Enjolras grumbled. "A slut dressing a slut."

Rosie glared at him and did the most unexpected thing she'd ever done; she slapped Enjolras square across the cheek.

"You foul, loathsome little-"

"Your insults are only wasted here, Rosie. Now go back to your little party."

Rosie got up, but stopped in the doorframe.

"You know, I never really hated you. Until now."

* * *

**Burrrnnnnnnn. Rosie and Enjolras aren't going to be around each other for the next few chapters, but Grantaire's history class problems are going to be addressed in the next few. **

**~TheClassof1832**

**PS**

**I don't know a whole lot about football, so I apologize to those who do for my lack of knowledge.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey y'all! I'm now bringing you the next installment of Schonberg High. You can expect this in the chappie:**

**Enjolras and Rosie on the rocks**

**Grantaire and his Tutors**

**Rosie's big brother**

**Sound good?**

* * *

"Rosie!" Enjolras hissed at her in their Physics class. Rosie let out a sniff and kept her eyes focused on the teacher.

Enjolras thought she was getting a bit ridiculous. He just doesn't approve of her piercing; that was it. Was that any reason for her to give him The Silent Treatment? Apparently, she could technically speak to her, as he learned later in history when she argued against the stance he took for Victor Hugo's rebel students. (Enjolras, naturally, was all for it; Rosie was against it, but just because he was for them.)

"But, Mr. Christophe, Hugo PLAINLY states that many of the Friends of the ABC were going into the field of law. Why choose violence when you're so close to being able to help so many people in your own way?" Rosie pointed out.

"Well, was it so wrong of them to finally decide that enough's enough; that somebody had to do something big? It was the Occupy Wall Street of the 1830s." Enjolras retorted.

"Yes, because everyone brought guns to Occupy Wall Street." Rosie stated harshly. "To almost quote the musical, it simply was 'a game for rich, young boys to play'. The character Enjolras, and his very real counterpart in this classroom, had good intentions. I just don't think the people of France were ready at the time. As we learn, for the barricade falls and everyone DIES."

"But how would they know? Past revolutions in France, though they led to disarray, were technically successful. The... Les Amis de l'Abaisse's intentions were good; they were going to fix the problems of the first revolution against the monarchy."

Mr. Christophe had no intention of having them stop. He would allow Rosie and Enjolras to go back and forth all class period if need be. They were his top students, after all.

But he had a sleeping student in the back row; Remy Grantaire.

"Grantaire!" Mr. Christophe boomed. "Can you please tell me what modern and ongoing event Mr. Enjolras compared the rebellion of June 5-6th, 1832 to?"

"Um, homecoming?"

The class erupted in a chorus of snorts or laughs; all except from Enjolras and Rosie, who were glaring at each other.

The bell rang and most of the students rushed out of class, but Grantaire stayed behind. Mr. Christophe had to talk to him.

"Remy, your English teacher tells me you're a bright boy. You've got a real knack for writing stories she said." Mr. Christophe said.

"Yessir." Grantaire mumbled.

"Grantaire, I want to see you try and apply yourself. If you keep failing, your coach will pull you," Christophe took a deep breath, "and that is why Coach Boubil and I have selected two tutors for you to work with; Combeferre and Christie."

"Aw, man, they're nerds!" Grantaire whined. "Why can't Rosie and Enjolras do it?"

Mr. Christophe chuckled. "Because I'm afraid they'd kill each other before you learned anything."

So during free period Grantaire went down to the library to see Christie and Combeferre... Making out over Pre-Calc homework.

"God," Grantaire mumbled under his breath. "Even when they make out it's nerdy."

Christie spotted their new pupil and pulled away quickly. Combeferre adjusted his glasses and looked for his history textbook.

"Hello Grantaire," he greeted casually. "I hope you've had a good day."

"I have... Until I found out that you're the only guy on the football team besides Courfeyrac who's gettin' any." Grantaire smirked at Combeferre and noticed Christie's face color.

"I am not "gettin' any"," Combeferre told him. "Christie and I have agreed to a relationship based on mutual respect and compassion. We're waiting until we're both ready."

"Okay, okay. My bad..." Grantaire sighed.

At the end of the hour, Grantaire actually emerged from the library with a smile on his face; Christie was really clever in remembering things and she'd shared with him a few of her favorites. Combeferre helped him organize his notes so he could actually read them for the first time in three years...

Meanwhile, the fridge at the Mitchell household was being raided by Andrew Mitchell, now a Junior in college, who had returned home for a bit. He was nearly the opposite of Rosie; where she excelled at English and History, Andrew had always been good at math and science. Everyone had expected Rosie to be just like him, but instead they got a pale, short little thing who liked to read. (Not that Andrew didn't love ALL his classes, but he was very good at the more number orientated things.)

"Do you ever stop eating?" Rosie asked as he sat down next to her on the couch as she did some of her Pre-Calc.

"Nope; not when I'm home, at least. How are you, Rosie-Posie?" Andrew inquired after a rather large helping of reheated lasagna.

"Well, I suppose."

"You suppose? What, I come home and your life doesn't get ten times better?" He joked, snagging a bag of Funions from the coffee table and opening them.

"You're disgusting." Rosie laughed. "You know, I find it hard to believe that you don't barf whatever the heck you eat at school up in your Pre-Med class."

Andrew took her homework from her and held it above her head (it wasn't hard; she was 5'4", he was 6'0) and grinned down at her.

"Andrew!" Rosie shrieked. "Give it back!"

"You know the magic words," he sing-songed.

Rosie let out a huff. "Andrew's the greatest, I am a noob."

"Correct!"

He handed her the notebook back, but spied something written in her loopy handwriting.

_Mrs. Julien Enjolras_

The words had been scribbled out angrily, but we're still readable. Andrew immediately went into protective big brother mode.

"Who's Julien Enjolras?" He questioned. Rosie sighed.

"No one... Now."

That set off a big red flag in Andrew's mind; Rosie usually would blabber on and on about her latest crush, but not this one. This one... Did something very wrong.

"Rosie," he have his sister a serious look. "Did this boy hurt you?"

"No! He's just... Not into me."

Andrew wasn't buying it. And he was going to end up meeting Julien Enjolras, just not how he would've preferred.

* * *

**Dun dun dunnnn! I like Andrew, he seems like a big brother. Coolio, huh? **

**And I liked the debate in History class, I had one of those last year with my current crush, but the teacher didn't let us bicker much.**

**Review? And maybe share an idea?**

**-TheClassof1832**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hai everyone! So my birthday is coming up and guess what? I am NOT seeing Ramin in Chicago. :( But hey, maybe someday I'll get to perform with him (it's my dream to play Christine opposite his Phantom, but sadly he said he's done with PotO; he'd probably only agree to do it if Sierra was going to be Christine anyway.)**

**But my birthday wish is for someone to give me a picture of Hadley Fraser. I'm sick of printing off my own pictures, so I want someone else to do it, because, well, me gusta Hadley. **

**But he cool thing is RAMIN'S BIRTHDAY IS FOURTEEN DAYS AFTER MINE! :D**

**And now, I present Saturday Afternoon.**

* * *

"Psst, Enjolras!" Combeferre shook the sleeping teen, who was curled up in his comforter. "You've got to get up. Courfeyrac's got an urge to go shopping and he's dragging us along." Enjolras let out a low groan.

"Fine..." He grumbled as he rolled out of bed, practically face planting into the floor. He stood up and wandered around for a comfy pair of old jeans and some t-shirt. Naturally, an old red one caught his eye and he staggered off to the bathroom.

He emerged twenty minutes later with his blonde hair stuffed into a beanie; he'd barely had time to wash it, but thankfully had managed to get it somewhat clean. He wasn't taking any chances though.

Courfeyrac bounded up the stairs and grabbed both Enjolras and Combeferre, dragging them downstairs and practically throwing them into his car.

"C'mon! Katie and the girls left an hour ago!" Courfeyrac yelled as he shoved his keys into the ignition.

"Maybe because they're girls?" Enjolras guessed. "And why are you yelling?"

"I don't know! It just seems right!"

Courfeyrac sped off to the mall, ranting and rambling about homecoming, which was going to be at the end of September. He was taking Katie, and apparently she was very particular about things.

"So she told me that I had to wear a white tie, and if I didn't get her a white orchid, that I could forget about dancing with her. How ridiculous is that? I mean, would Chrisie be that crazy to you, 'Ferre?"

"No; but I already got her a blue orchid though." Combeferre replied to Courfeyrac's inquiry.

"And Enjolras!" Courfeyac exclaimed. "You don't even have a date!"

"What's the point?" Enjolras sighed. "They're still going to vote me stupid homecoming king again and have me dance with some perfect cheerleader who I don't even know. So who cares if I don't have a date?"

"Aren't you supposed to have a running partner?" Combeferre questioned.

"Yeah, but I still ended up on my own as a write-in last year."

The conversation ended there; no one really wanted to talk about how Enjolras despised the monarchy-like system forced upon them at homecoming and prom. So the three guys just sat in silence for thirty minutes, finally arriving at one of the malls in a bigger suburb of Chicago. Enjolras hopped out of the car and stretched, considering he hadn't had much time to do so that morning. Courfeyrac led the group into some shop and started picking out clothes for them to try on. Though quite the Ladies' Man, Courfeyrac insisted in staying up to date on the recent fashion trends, and that included what to wear for prom that year. He handed Combeferre a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a light blue tie.

"If Katie's looking for a blue dress, the light blue will still look fine next to it. Unless it's a really dark blue. Just so that weird clash doesn't happen, take a black tie with you so it looks okay." Courfeyrac instructed as he steered a unimpressed Combeferre into a dressing room, closing the door for him. He looked Enjolras over a few times before deciding what to grab.

"You always look good in red," he noted. "And you are the captain of the football team. Try... This." Courfeyrac held out a nice suit with a red tie draped over the shoulder of the jacket. Enjolras walked into a dressing room and changed, walking out the same time as Combeferre, who looked like he'd had trouble with his tie. They both nodded to each other and went to stand in front of the bigger mirror. One of the salespeople approached them, taking in the sight of the two.

"You know," the woman said, putting a hand on Enjolras' shoulder, "that suit would look even better if it were taken in a bit."

"You think?" He asked, turning to the side. "It looks fine to me."

The woman laughed and Courfeyrac came out in his suit that was paired with a white satin tie. The woman looked him over and sighed.

"I forgot; it's homecoming season." She muttered. "Never mind..."

Courfeyrac stood in his suit, which was all black except for the tie. "Combeferre, you're good. Enjolras... What do you think?"

"I'm not too sure about mine," Enjolras admitted. "Could we try something... A little James Bond-ish?"

"B-Bond?" Courfeyrac stuttered. "Huh. You know, I could see it. Go on, you find something then."

Enjolras changed back to his normal clothes and wandered around for the perfect suit. One caught his eye; it was light grey and was paired with an ugly pink-and-blue candy stripe tie. Enjolras snagged the suit and a red-and-blue tie instead, then retreating to the dressing room.

When he emerged, Combeferre (who had purchased his things) and Courfeyrac (who had done the same) were not alone.

The girls, Christie, Katie, and Rosie, were standing around talking with the guys. Katie turned and looked at him first.

"Oh..."

"My..."

"God..." Rosie finished. Her face colored a bit as he grinned slightly at her. The guys both gave approving nods and Enjolras rolled out his saved up Christmas money to buy the suit. Katie and Christie then grabbed Rosie and dragged her away to get dresses.

"And none of you are allowed to follow us!" She warned. "It's bad luck."

"That's only with weddings," Christie huffed. "But you wouldn't know that." Katie rolled her eyes.

"Does it look like I care, sis? No, it doesn't. Now C'MON!"

Katie and Christie finished shopping rather quickly; they'd had their eyes on a particular dress for months. Rosie, however, was having trouble. People always told her she looked good in red, so that's the color she was looking for. But most of the dresses looked to old lady-ish or too trampy.

"Rosie," Christie sighed, "let's just go. We can try again next weekend."

"Just one more, okay?" Rosie called out to them.

She stepped out of the dressing room and stood in front of her friends. Katie and Christie both grinned. And there was another person behind them who was grinning also.

"E-Enjolras!" Rosie squeaked awkwardly, cursing inwardly for sounding so timid.

"You look lovely," he told her, walking slowly towards her. "And, I was sort of wondering if-"

"Yes!" Rosie exclaimed. "... I-I mean, continue."

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me?" Enjolras asked. Rosie smiled.

"Of course; I'd love to."

* * *

**They are like sickeningly cute together. And, if you're curious about what everyone's dresses and suits look like, links to the pictures are on my profile!**

**Can I get some birthday reviews? Pwease?**

**~TheClassof1832**


	9. Chapter 9

**First home football game was a success; made small-talk about stupid concession lines with one of my guy friends. And found out one my goofy friends can actually spell Ramin Karimloo AND say it correctly. I was rather proud of her. **

**This chapter is about Andrew and Rosie's relationship and covers a partner project in Mr. Christophe's!**

* * *

"Oh, Rosie! You look lovely!" Mrs. Mitchell told her daughter as she showed off her dress for homecoming.

"Thanks, mom." She said. "I even have a date!"

"You do? Oh, please tell me it's that Brighton boy, the one you've liked for a while."

"Yes, I do." Rosie replied. "But no, it's not Richie. It's Enjolras."

Andrew practically choked on his pizza. He wasn't quite sure if his sister was joking or if he was hearing things. Either one would've been better than the truth. Andrew knew about the guys Enjolras hung out with, and if he even breathed wrong on Rosie... Well, he'd be as dead as Hugo's Enjolras. The last thing he needed was his sister sneaking out at night to sleep with some stupid football player.

"You are NOT going with him." He stated. Rosie gave him a look; one he had never gotten from her, a glare.

"And why not, Andrew Ryan Mitchell?" She inquired, putting her hands on her hips.

"Because, Rose Therese Mitchell, he'll give you a reputation."

Rosie laughed; her brother's understanding of Enjolras was so weak that it was hard not to. She was almost sure he had him confused with Courfeyrac. Enjolras couldn't give her a reputation; he was fairly awkward and antisocial around girls. He'd never even had a girlfriend.

"Andrew, you have him confused with Courfeyrac; Enjolras wouldn't touch me in... That way. Only if I allowed it or asked him to. He wouldn't take advantage of me."

"Sure, sure," Andrew grumbled. "That's what they all say, then BOOM! You're pregnant." Rosie rolled her eyes.

"Why don't you go lecture Katie? She's going to need one, considering she's going with Courfeyrac." Rosie plopped down on the couch, ignoring her fuming brother.

"Fine; don't listen to me. But if he lays a finger on you, and you don't like it, just come and tell me and I'll take care of it."

Andrew exited the room, heading to his bedroom. Rosie went to change out of her dress and put on some old sweats and a t-shirt. There was a knock on the door and she gradually got up from the couch, opening the door, only to regret wearing sweats.

"Enjolras, now really isn't a good time. Andrew's in a mood and-"

"I understand. But, I was just wondering if you had a partner yet for Mr. Christophe's French Revolution presentation?" He asked her. Rosie suddenly remembered that the project was going to start that Monday and she didn't have a partner.

"No, I don't. Why? Do you want to be partners?" She questioned. Enjolras looked down at his shoes for a moment, but then regained his natural confidence.

"Well, I was hoping to be. And I've got a great idea planned; I'll send you the script. You're email's still the same as last year, right?"

"Y-Yeah. Okay, I'll read it over."

Enjolras smiled. "Okay, bye."

"B-Bye."

Rosie closed the door behind him and let out a squeak. Enjolras always wrote the best presentations; she was sure this one was brilliant. He was fairly fascinated by the French Revolution; of Robespierre and the Reign of Terror, The National Conventions, etc. She eagerly awaited for the email and was very excited when she opened the attachment. It was titled "Reign of Terror". The script followed the rise and fall of Robespierre's power over the National Assembly by using Romantic-Era metaphors and moving quotes from the man the plot followed. In a way, Enjolras had written a beautiful, touching narrative for a man who was known for believing that the revolution was never done.

After finishing the script, which closed with a reading of a final quote; "To punish the oppressors of humanity is clemency; to forgive them is barbarity." (Maxeilmelien Robespierre, 1794) Rosie called Enjolras to share her praise that was bottled up.

As soon as he answered, she said, "It's brilliant. Truly brilliant. I sort of wish Jehan was the one doing it with you; he has a flair for Romantic-Era poems."

"I thought I was rather good myself; I think I represent both sides of the story fairly. You're alright with representing the people, right? Because of you want to be Robespierre-"

"No, no," Rosie laughed. "You can do it. It's a very Enjolraic thing to speak about Robespierre."

"Okay. Now, we'll work on it this week and present first thing Friday. See you tomorrow."

"See y-"

Rosie realized Enjolras had hung up and she huffed. He was still Enjolras; just a little sweeter. When he wanted to be. Andrew entered the room and read Enjolras' script, a disapproving frown on his face.

"Wouldn't it make much more sense to do something on Louis XVI or Marie Antoinette?" He questioned. Rosie shrugged.

"Nah, French Revolutionaries are Enjolras' specialty."

Andrew snorted. "You don't say? Now, how are you expected to dress for this?"

"I'm not sure; I imagine we might dress in era clothing. I was thinking of doing the people's story dressed as Patria to signify France." Rosie explained.

"And how does... WAIT. Isn't that Enjolras's LOVER?"

It was Rosie's turn to snort now; she couldn't believe how much Andrew was against her spending time with Enjolras. "Andrew, sometimes you are too literal. Patria means motherland, or, depending on if you like Frenchboy slash, fatherland. Also known as France. And who better to voice the people than the country itself?" Rosie pointed out. "And I'm not exactly sure how she dresses, but I'll associate a tricolor with it somehow."

Andrew scowled and walked out the room. Rosie stuck her tongue out at him and went back to rereading the script.

* * *

**Poor Andrew. He needs a hug. And Enjy! What did I tell you about reading all that Robespierre?**

**Enjolras: ... it's good! I could be reading Anna Karenina like Jehan!**

**Me: Jehan!**

**Jehan: ... What? Courfeyrac's reading Fifty Shades of Grey!**

**All: COURFEYRAC!**

**Oh Lord... Why can I just picture that?**

**~TheClassof1832**


	10. Chapter 10

**I am officially in love with Hadley Fraser and Ramin Karimloo. I found out they have a "Bromance name", Radley! And I'm sure a lot of you knew this already, but I still think its soo cool that one of Ramin's sons is named Hadley. :) **

**But does that mean that if Hadley has a kid and it's a boy that he'll be named Ramin? Elaborate, please.**

**This chapter is the presentation. If I confused anyone, both Enjolras and Rosie are Evita Che-esque narrators, but Enjolras represents Robespierre, more or less. Coolio?**

* * *

Enjolras was a bit jumpy in the hallway as he waited for his and Rosie's names to be called. Hardly anyone had dressed for the era. The only two had been Courfeyrac and Katie, who did a presentation on the lives of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Rosie had bought an old wedding dress from a thrift shop and the costumer for the drama club helped her remove the majority of the beading and extra things. She also had the skirt filled out to a point. Mr. Mackintosh had loaned her a tricolor that had been Ramin's during the high school's production of Les Miz.

Enjolras, on the other hand, had a harder time getting his hands on a costume. He ended up going to Mr. Mackintosh as well, who managed to dig up the old Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy costumes from the "Pride and Prejudice" contest play from two years ago. Karimloo's Darcy costume fit Enjolras better than Fraser's Bingley one, so he was dressed in mostly black; the long trousers altered into breeches. The choir director allowed him to borrow some white madrigals stockings, since there wasn't much difference between the Medieval man's woolen stocking and the one of Robespierre's time.

"Enjolras and Rosie!" Mr. Christophe hollered. Enjolras adjusted his coat before opening the door and entering. Thankfully, it turned out many of the others HAD been in costume. Before Enjolras could start his opening, Rosie walked over to him.

"I've got something for you," she opened her hand and revealed the tricolor pin; a cockade, Enjolras somehow recalled. He figured calling it a pin was best though, considering Courfeyrac was in the class, after all. Rosie pinned it to his lapel and he turned to address the crowd.

"Maximilien de Robespierre was born in Arras, France on May 6th, 1758 to a bourgeoisie family," Enjolras stated. "He came from a long line of lawyers, starting with his grandfather, also named Maximilien."

"At age seventeen, while studying at the_ Louis-le-Grand_, Robespierre was chosen to give a speech in honor of the new king, Louis XVI's, coronation. He spoke in the pouring rain while the king and his queen stayed in their carriage the whole time. The royals left immediately afterwards." Rosie followed.

Enjolras took over the narrative of his political career, leading up to his execution.

"And so, Maximilien Robespierre, aged thirty-six, was killed by the monster he had created," Rosie said. "His and the National Assembly's decision to allow the use of little to no evidence against the condemned was ultimately his end. Like those he had scorned, he too climbed the scaffolding to receive a necklace which would never leave him. Like many with power, Maximilien Robespierre became paranoid. But a patriot is a patriot. He believed in a new France, but got lost along the way."

Enjolras, who had kneeled after he reached Robespierre's execution, rose again to speak one last time. "In 1794, Robespierre said, "To punish the oppressors of humanity is clemency; to forgive them is barbarity." I leave you with this; Maximilien Robespierre was a man far ahead of his time. Yet, his own words burned him in the end. His name will always remain intertwined with the history of France and its revolution. But in what way he deserves to be remembered is your decision."

The class was silent for a moment, as if they couldn't comprehend what had been shown to them. Mr. Christophe spoke up.

"I have seen many presentations on the topic of the National Assembly and Robespierre. But this one... This one stands out. Both of you are so well-spoken, and so smart that I could imagine the two of you representing both sides of the story; Robespierre's being voiced by Enjolras, and the people who grew to fear him, presented by Rosie. And the costumes are genius! How did you get them?"

"It wasn't easy," Enjolras told him. "We both haunted the drama department for a while." Rosie nodded in agreement.

"I want Mr. Mackintosh to see this. And Mr. Valjean. Heck, even Mr. Javert can come and see this if he wants to. Be ready for them on Monday. Wonderful. Just wonderful." Mr. Christophe praised.

Rosie smiled at Enjolras and threw her arms around his neck. Enjolras, slightly taken aback, wrapped his arms around her waist. Courfeyrac wolf-whistled as the class applauded and both Enjolras and Rosie looked at him annoyedly.

They got permission to go and change, and rushed out into the hallway.

"You were marvelous!" Enjolras shouted to Rosie as she went to her locker.

"You were too! I almost thought for a second that you were playing Robespierre himself, not just telling his story."

They stopped in between the two bathrooms, standing in front of the water fountain, their normal clothes balled up from being quickly stuffed into backpacks. Enjolras unpinned the cockade from his lapel and handed it to Rosie.

"Here," he offered it to her. "You keep it."

Rosie closed his hand around it. "No. It was meant for you."

Enjolras nodded and took it back, leaving to change. Rosie did the same, but kept her hair in the braid Katie had helped her with. When she exited, she could hear the hand-dryer of the boys' bathroom going; Enjolras was probably trying to get the flour out of his hair by blowing it out. When he came out, there were still specks of white in his hair, but it was more blonde than wig-white. Rosie pulled a comb from her pocket and stopped him from entering the classroom.

"Here. Let me help you," she mumbled. With a little more combing, the flour was all gone. "Better?"

Enjolras checked his reflection in the glass window by the door. He nodded and went into the classroom without saying a thing to her.

Rosie leaned against the lockers and sighed.

He truly was a Robespierre.

* * *

**Please forgive my lack of knowledge on Robespierre. This was all congured from Internet research, so not all the details could be correct. :/ **

**Review? Please?**

**~TheClassof1832**


	11. Chapter 11

**Okay, so this chapter jumps ahead to Homecoming week, starting with Monday morning and Grantaire in Mr. Christopher's class. Then there's a bit of Enjolras and Rosie, and a bit of Christie and Combeferre. The ending is a surprise...**

* * *

"Grantaire," Mr. Christophe stated, waving the teenager over. Grantaire gulped. He could already see the big, fat F on his history test. Instead, he was pleasantly surprised.

"B+?" He mumbled, taking the paper in his hands. "B+! Whoo Hoo! I'm practically a genius! And in French History! Jesus, I only thought Enjolras passed French History tests!" Grantaire practically danced to his desk, waving the test in the air. Rosie smiled into her new book, pleased that Grantaire had experienced success under Combeferre and Christie's watchful eyes. Enjolras looked up from his copy of TIME and grinned at her, catching Rosie off-guard.

"What?" She mouthed.

"Meet me in the old science lab after class," He mouth-whispered to her. Rosie nodded; she knew about the old science lab. It was where most kids went to sneak out to ditch. Or, in the case of many, make out with their boyfriend/girlfriend. Her heart fluttered wildly; Enjolras was asking HER to the old science lab. HER!

Christie, meanwhile, was passing notes with Combeferre, her pink pen looking adorable on his college-ruled notebook paper; the little heart-dotted I's seeming so sweet and innocent. But Christie wasn't always so innocent; she did live with Katie, after all. Combeferre was a change for her, he was sweet and gentle and smart, the perfect match for her. She had finally found her Edward Ferrars.

Combeferre was equally smitten; just as the Lit. geeks had compared Enjolras and Rosie to Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett, Combeferre felt as if he had found his Jane Bennett, and was actually proud to say he was Mr. Bingley in the equation. He worried about her sister though, she was too wild for her own good. Katie was lucky she was smart; if she wasn't, she'd be like all the other sluts at the school. (And there were more than you'd think.) But Katie wasn't his concern; Christie was his girl.

Later, Rosie slipped into the old science lab, practically bumping into Enjolras.

"He-

"Shhh." He whispered. "We've got to stay very quiet. Mr. Javert is inspecting the classrooms today; if he hears us, we're screwed."

"O-Okay," Rosie mumbled. "But. . . Why would he hear us?" Her face felt hot as Enjolras lifted her onto a old lab table, her legs dangling off the edge. As she often did when she was nervous, Rosie began to bite her index fingernail. It wasn't a strange nervous habit, but it wasn't the best thing for the situation.

"So he doesn't hear us. . . Y'know. If we get there, of course. I really don't need to, honestly. It's just - What, you nervous or something?" Enjolras inquired. Rosie shook her head and pulled Enjolras closer to her by his t-shirt. He kissed her, gently pulling her against him, shocked by how much he enjoyed feeling her warm body against his.

Just a few minutes later, Mr. Javert was strolling past the old lab where Enjolras and Rosie were. He heard what he thought to be a gasp coming from the lab. He opened the door and flicked on the lights to find two Juniors in a very, VERY compromising situation. Enjolras and Rosie just stared at him, both their faces colored a violent shade of red.

Javert cleared his throat. "I will give you five minutes to make yourselves decent and report down to Mr. Valjean's office." He told them. The two just stared at him. "That means NOW!"

The two did as he said, and scurried down to Mr. Valjeans's office. He smiled at them despite the fact that they were obviously ashamed and embarrassed.

"Ah, Mr. Javert," Valjean said at the vice-principal's entrance. "What seems to be the matter today?"

"These two students were..." Javert seemed to be searching for the proper word; in a hushed tone, he continued. "Fornicating on school grounds!"

"What!" Enjolras exclaimed. "That is not true! Mr. Valjean, for the act Rosie and I committed to be considered fornification-"

"Julien Enjolras, I am QUITE sure the principal knows the definition of fornification. Which is EXACTLY what you and Ms. Mitchell were doing. I believe they should be expelled." Javert argued.

Mr. Valjean sighed. "Javert, please leave the room."

Javert obviously was not pleased, but complied.

"Now," Valjean turned to the two students, "tell me what happened."

Rosie was too embarrassed to speak, so it was up to Enjolras.

"You see, we weren't, um, doing IT, Mr. Valjean. We were nowhere CLOSE to that type of physical contact. I imagine what led Mr. Javert to believe that was the fact that Rosie's blouse was off," Rosie blushed at the mention of it, "and my belt was undone and on the floor. We were harmlessly making out, Mr. Valjean, sir. And technically, it wasn't even a PDA. Javert walked IN on us, sir. It was wrong of us to skip class, and we know it, but... Weren't you a teenager once? Didn't you know that one girl that just drove you wild? Well, I-"

"That's enough, Mr. Enjolras." Valjean stated. "I will not expell either of you," the couple took a deep breath, "BUT you must write me a two-page essay on teen abstinence."

Enjolras and Rosie both nodded, and got the hell out of Valjean's office. It was already time for Mackintosh's class, and if they were late, he was going to want to know WHY. Neither of them wanted to explain all that.

They breezed through the door just as the bell rang, only to find that Christie and Combeferre were presenting their musical project on "The Phantom of the Opera".

Enjolras listened with a slight smile on his face; Combeferre and Christie were so obviously in love with each other. He wondered if he and Rosie ever looked at each other the same way, but then he caught himself. Enjolras and Rosie weren't supposed to be into each other. They'd hated each other for forever. Yet, something changed.

After a few bland presentations on "Wicked", and a rather creative one on "Funny Girl", Enjolras went to go get his Pre-Calc homework from Combeferre, only to be badgered with questions.

"Well, where were you?" Combeferre questioned.

"I was with Ros-"

"Doing what?"

"Making ou-"

"And THAT'S more important than Pre-Calc?" Combeferre yelled at him.

"I'm not sure; it was some pretty good kissing..."

Combeferre hit Enjolras - HARD - with his binder. Enjolras rubbed his shoulder angrily. "Stop being like Courfeyrac! Use your head! Not... Ugh. You know."

Enjolras trailed after him, a little frustrated. "And you think I don't use my brain? Oh, what a great friend you are! I'll have you know, I have used my brain PLENTY today. I am still Enjolras. But now there's another part of me."

"God, I hope you get injured at practice tonight," Combeferre muttered. Enjolras glared at him.

"I hope you do too!" He shouted after him. "UGH!" Enjolras punched his locker, pressing his head against it.

And both Combeferre and Enjolras got their wish; Combeferre pulled a muscle in his calf, and Enjolras broke his thumb a la Jay Cutler.

The worst part?

The homecoming game was against Guardston.

* * *

**Dun dun dunnnnn! Oh Lordy, Enjolras cannot be happy right now. And I apologize for Javert and his assuming mind. **

**Anyway, if you want to share any ideas for the story, feel free to PM mefor review! Don't worry; I don't bite!**

**~TheClassof1832**


	12. Chapter 12

**Oh hey, I'm alive! Yo soy baja! I think... **

**Enjolras: Oh, just get to the point!**

**So, as Mr. Grumpy-Pants said, I have to "get to the point". The point is, this chapter includes various "math problems", with are:**

**Broken Thumb = Angry Enjolras + Montparnasse + Combeferre + X **

**Surgery = Broken thumb + Enjolras**

**Possible Suggestiveness = Rosie + Enjolras(Angry at parents)**

**(They'll make sense later, I promise. AND DAMN YOU REID! Why must you be #1 in the eighth grade in math, and I am only #2? Sure, it helps with your superiority complex, but still...)**

* * *

Enjolras was still mad at everyone; mad at Combeferre for yelling at him, mad at Montparnasse for breaking his thumb, mad at his father for yelling at him for "ruining his future career". The only good thing was his mother, who was always the mediator between her husband and son. But today, Mrs. Enjolras let the two hash it out. She felt like they needed to; that they needed to know what the other wanted.

"Mr. Enjolras?" A nurse questioned quietly. "Are you ready to go into the operating room?" Enjolras looked over at the game ball from his first win ever, and nodded.

"Yes, ma'am, I am."

As Dr. Combeferre, 'Ferre's father, operated, Rosie arrived only to run awkwardly into Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras. She immediately became more timid; though she knew Mrs. Enjolras to be a fairly agreeable woman, she wasn't quite sure about Mr. Enjolras.

Mr. Enjolras, though, regarded her warmly.

"Why I'll be! It's old Mitchie's little girl, Rosie! What brings you here?" He inquired. Rosie gulped to herself; could she tell them she was here to see Enjolras?

"Oh, I just heard two football-"

"Yes." Mrs. Enjolras stated. "My _son _is one of them. He's in surgery right now. They have to set his thumb with pins. PINS!"

"Oh," Rosie mumbled. "I didn't know..."

"Dr. Combeferre sure had a good laugh about it." Mr. Enjolras grumbled. "Said my boy's thumb broke just like Cutler's."

"You mean Jay Cutler's? Didn't he mi-

"A whole SEASON?" Mr. Enjolras boomed. "Yes, he did. Now go away, little girl."

Mr. Enjolras's BlackBerry went off abruptly and he read whatever message he had just received. It was an email, from Vice Principal Javert, stating the events his son had partook in earlier that day. He looked up at Rosie in disbelief.

"You... YOU were the reason my boy got hurt!" He shouted at her.

"I am not!" Rosie defended. "Montparnasse made that tackle!"

"But you're the reason he was so distracted! If you hadn't been with him in the science lab, skipping class, practically..." He trailed off. "Never mind. Go, gir-"

"Rosie?" Enjolras mumbled as he was wheeled out of surgery. Rosie smiled at him and he grinned back. The cast on his hand to hold the thumb and pins in place was red, of course, and it didn't seem to bother him. Enjolras had been injured plenty of times because of sports; most memorably his basketball injury where he twisted his ankle nearly one-hundred-eighty degrees. He's sprained, twisted, and broken plenty of parts of his body, and almost every injury had to do with sports. (His physician actually sent his parents a Christmas gift every year...)

"Enjolras, how are you?" Rosie asked as she followed behind closely. He shrugged.

"Fine. My hand itches though." He replied with a chuckle. Rosie had never had a cast before, so she didn't understand the whole thing about itching problems. Enjolras just sighed as she stood there puzzled for a moment.

Later, after an X-ray had been performed to see if the pins were set right, Coach Boubil came up to talk with Enjolras about a new game plan.

"Now, I've got two choices for QB this game; Courfeyrac and Robyns. Courfeyrac has played the position before, and Robyns was supposed to be starting quarterback this year, as intended by Hadley before you came along." He told Enjolras.

"No. Courfeyrac runs too easily. Guardston's athletic, they'll have no hesitations on chasing him down all night. And Robyns! He can't throw worth anything! I want to play the Blanche kid, Ryne? Is that his name?"

Coach Boubil stared at him like he was a raving madman. "Blanche? The kid's Frosh, Enjolras. Just got to Schonberg! And you expect him to compete at the Varsity level?"

"Yes," Enjolras answered. "I've seen him play. The kid's goo-"

"Blanche is SCRAWNY! The Guardston linemen will make a meal of him! I'd be more comfortable putting his twin, Joseph, in! At least he's tall and-"

"Looks like he could get blown over by a slight breeze? At least Ryne's stockier; he won't look like he'll topple over at any minute like Joe!"

"Fine. But if he starts to struggle, I'm sending in Robyns."

Coach Boubil left and passed Rosie as she entered. He talked with Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras just outside the door as Rosie and Enjolras talked.

"I'm sorry you won't be playing in the homecoming game." She stated softly. "Who are they going to replace you with?"

"Ryne Blanche."

"Oh! I know Ryne, he's a sweetheart! He's a trumpet player in the symphonic band. His brother Joe plays trombone."

Enjolras smiled a bit. "Y'know, they're pretty good athletes, too, Rose." He pointed out. Then Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras came in, halting their conversation.

"Well, Julien, the Notre Dame Athletics Department sends their wishes of a speedy recovery." Mr. Enjolras said happily, then noticing Rosie. "Well, well, well. Old Mitchie's daughter sure has been spending a lot of time with you, my boy. Or so Mr. Javert says."

Enjolras paled. "Sure. We're good friends." He lied through his teeth.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Javert said you two are _very _good friends. Now, Miss Mitchell, how would you... Rate my son's capability in... An intimate relationship?"

Rosie's face colored and Mrs. Enjolras, who hadn't been informed of the events from earlier today, gasped. Mr. Enjolras awaited Rosie's reply, while Enjolras fumed.

"I have no past experience with any other men, so I can't say." Rosie mumbled.

Mr. Enjolras chuckled. "Ah, I see. Now," he kneeled down at Rosie's eye level, "honey, you and my boy come from different worlds. One day, he'll be winning Super Bowls. And you'll... Shop. Understand? You won't fit into his world unless you grow six inches, become a size 2, and have prettier eyes. He'll marry a supermodel... You'll marry an accountant. Get my point?"

Rosie glared at him and stood up. "Mr. Enjolras, I cannot believe how ignorant you are to your own son. He doesn't want to be a professional athlete! He wants to be an attorney! If you would've used your ears and listened to him once in the past six years, you would've known that!"

Enjolras' mouth was agape, thinking of what his father might come back with.

"You think I don't know my own SON? Listen, you little brat, you may be smart at school, but-"

"DAD!" Enjolras yelled. "That's ENOUGH!"

Enjolras sprung out of the hospital bed, happy to be in his own clothes, that he'd changed into in the bathroom earlier, and wrapped his arms around Rosie from behind. He stared his father down and Mr. Enjolras cleared his throat as he sat down.

"Don't worry," he murmured in Rosie's ear. "Everything's alright. Meet me at the Zane's at ten. I've... Got a little something planned for tonight. Will you permit it?"

Rosie smiled slightly. "S-Sure."

"Great. See you then."

* * *

**Grantaire: HEY! That's my line!**

**Me: I know. But it's also the basis of many E/R slashfics. So I stole it for Enj to say to a girl! Hah!**

**Oh boy... Enjolras has been drinking Essence of Courfeyrac a lot, I think. But don't worry, he's still Enjolras. Just... Teenage boy!jolras! **

**And Jeez, I made Mr. E a jerk; but hey, I guess NFL Quarterbacks can't be with 5'4", size 4 petite, brunettes with green eyes. :P **

**Next chapter was taken over by Courfeyrac and Jehan, so expect fluff, fluff, fluff and some suggestive material. Not a lot, though. 'Kay? 'Kay.**

**~TheClassof1832**


	13. Chapter 13

**Jehan: *waltzes in holding a rose in his hand* Bonjour! Welcome to my chapter, also known as the fluff chapter. **

**Courfeyrac: Hey! This is my chapter too! I take the end bit. ;)**

**So yeah, this chapter's sort of dedicated to Jehan and Courfeyrac. Rosie and Enjolras are not too happy with me for this one, but I love this chapter and it's sort of sweet. **

* * *

The first place Rosie went when she was back on her block was Katie and Christie's. She knew they would have ideas for her, and Christie was the same dress size as Rosie, so she could get a dress too. Katie was more than happy to help.

"Ooh!" Katie exclaimed as Rosie told her what Enjolras had said. "Hot date with the quarterback, huh?" She nudged Rosie playfully. Rosie blushed and sat on Katie's nice bed as she dug through her sister's closet. "How about this?" She held up a blue cocktail dress. Rosie shook her head. "Yeah. It's not my favorite either."

Katie searched for what seemed like forever, and Rosie was getting a little nervous. If Katie of all people couldn't find her a dress for tonight, she was doomed.

"Ah ha!" Katie chirped happily, brandishing the little black dress proudly. "Perfect!" She steered Rosie into the bathroom, handed her the dress, and threw in after her a pair of silk nylon stockings and heels before closing the door. Rosie emerged a few minutes later, staring at her feet.

Katie squealed happily. "Fabulous! Enjolras won't be able to keep his hands... Er, hand off you! Now, let's do your hair..." She held up a curling iron and motioned for Rosie to sit down in front of her vanity.

Christie looked up from her copy of _The Jungle_, watching her sister amusedly. Katie babbled happily as she styled Rosie's hair, curling it over one shoulder to reveal her pale, slender neck. Rosie stayed silent, focusing on her lap.

"Something wrong?" Katie inquired. "You should be excited! It'll be your first time, right?" Rosie turned around to face her.

"That's not very Enjolraic for him to plan that. We're probably going to catch some late show of something..." She mumbled. Katie raised her eyebrows, and Rosie ignored her.

"So," Christie began. "If he is planning to... Uh, be with you tonight, what will you do?" Rosie's face colored.

"I don't know. It depends." She answered softly.

"On what?"

Rosie stayed silent, but she knew her answer. It would depend on if he loved her or not. She could never commit herself to a man who didn't love her.

Katie continued to make Rosie over, and time seemed to run away on them. At ten after, there was a knock on the front door.

"Oh my GOD! I'M COMING ALREADY!" Katie hollered, running to get the door.

On the stoop stood Enjolras, who was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt. He was fiddling absentmindedly with his sleeve, but still made eye contact with Katie. She smiled and invited him in. Enjolras stepped inside and Katie rushed off to get Rosie.

Rosie stepped timidly out from behind Katie, and Enjolras' jaw dropped in spite of himself. She was stunning, and she seemed completely unaware. Her cheeks colored a soft pink, and she took a brave step toward him.

"Hey, Enjolras." Rosie greeted.

"Hey. Y-You look... Amazing." He breathed. Katie came up behind them and steered them out the door.

"Have fun you two!" She sing-songed.

Rosie stood there and stared at Enjolras for a moment; his hair was just as wild and untame as usual, a gleam in his dark blue eyes that she had never seen before. She wondered what it was, and desired to learn what that gleam meant. He smiled at her and she pressed her lips softly to his, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss.

"So," she said as she climbed into the car, "where are we going?" Enjolras grinned, but didn't answer.

He drove towards the city, listening to the radio station that Rosie had chosen. It was some classical music station, and she seemed to be entranced by the music. Her eyes stared dreamily at the city skyline that was approaching them, an overnight bag at her feet. Enjolras himself had stashed an old backpack in the trunk with a change of clothes and such. They seemed so close, he observed, and yet she was far away in some cloudy fantasy.

Eventually, he pulled up in front of the hotel, The Palmer House, got out, helped Rosie out, and handed the keys to a valet, along with a very kind tip.

Rosie wandered around the lobby, nearly crashing into an old woman as she stared up at the frescoed ceilings. The lobby was so beautiful, she couldn't help imagining what the room would look like. Enjolras joined her after checking in, and he and Rosie passed the old woman again, who was now with an older man who must be her husband. Despite the fact that Rosie had practically knocked her over earlier, she nodded to the young woman. Rosie smiled in spite of herself; she was usually very awkward with strangers.

"Do you have any bags, sir?" A bellhop inquired, approaching Enjolras.

"Nothing that we can't handle, thank you." Enjolras replied politely. The bellhop nodded and Rosie began to wonder if the Enjolrases stayed here often. She was sure the room was going to be one of the better ones the hotel had to offer.

And she was right; they were staying in one of the hotel's suites.

"I can't imagine what you had to say to your dad to get him to pay for this." Rosie stated, as she plopped down on the bed. Enjolras chuckled and laid down next to her, kicking his shoes off nonchalantly.

"It was easier than you'd think," he whispered in her ear. Rosie shivered, though the room was at a comfortable temperature.

Enjolras turned her to face him, and brought her closer until they were practically pressed together. Her forehead was against his and their breath mingled in the large silence that filled the room. Without a second thought, Rosie pressed her lips to his and Enjolras responded forcefully. Rosie's arms wound around his neck as his hands trailed curiously down her body.

"Wait." Rosie broke the kiss. "Do you love me?"

"What?" Enjolras mumbled. "What kind of question is that?"

Rosie stared at him with hurt welling up in her eyes. She quickly got up and stormed out the door. Enjolras rushed after her, trying to take back what he'd said.

"Rosie, I really do care about y-"

"Obviously not enough," she grumbled.

"Rose-"

"Why even do this?" She questioned as she whirled around to face him. "Why! You don't love me. You're only supposed to be together this way if you're in love!"

Enjolras sighed, "I do love you."

Rosie shook her head. "Then why don't I believe you?"

He didn't want to do this, he'd never planned it, but Enjolras slightly lost his temper; he grabbed Rosie's wrist and pulled her back to him, his lips crashing down onto hers as he pushed her against the wall of the hallway. Rosie pushed against his shoulders, but he was bigger than her. His lips brushed her neck and she let out a soft whimper.

"Rosie... I... I didn't... I'm such an ass, I'm sorry. But you've got to believe me when I say that I would never hurt you. The fact that I just did makes me feel so terrible," he took a deep breath, and in a hurt, pleading voice, breathed, "Please, Rosie. I love you..."

Rosie wasn't exactly sure what to do. She gently brushed his cheek with her hand, and he longed to hold it there. Rosie let him kiss her again, this time feeling more comfortable. The fingers of his good hand were tangled in her hair and they both were in the heat of the moment.

"Let's... Go back to the room." Rosie murmured breathily.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Let's go back."

And Enjolras, without any hesitation, scooped Rosie into his arms and carried her into the room.

* * *

**And what happens next is up to the reader's imagination. *wink wink***

**Jehan: I liked the beginning. Courfeyrac, why'd you make Enjolras get all rough with Rosie?**

**Courf: I dunno. It works. His temper is overwhelming at times.**

**And I summoned a little Ramin!phantom in Enjolras' "Please, Rosie. I love you..." Think of Karimloo's "Christine, I love you..." and that's what Enjolras sort of sounded like.**

**I leave you with this: I am not the owner of Les Mis. If I was, Marius would die and all the Barricade Boys and - maybe - Eponine would live. As would Javert... **

**~TheClassof1832**


	14. Chapter 14

**Oh hey, y'all! I'm back! Before I get started, I need you all to vote on a homecoming theme! Yay! Here are your choices:**

**1. A Hero's Homecoming**

**2. A Night in Paris**

**3. Italian Serenade.**

**4. Jungle Allure**

**5. Legends of Camelot**

**6. Written in the Stars**

**Also, vote for homecoming king and queen on my profile!**

* * *

Enjolras was woken abruptly the next morning by a loud banging on the door of the suite. He stretched and searched around for his clothes. Once he made himself decent, he got up and opened the door. Rosie woke up moments later, wrapped up in a sheet. She held the cloth close to her and walked toward the door, only to scurry away quickly.

Her brother, Andrew, had been the person knocking.

"Where's my sister?" Andrew asked in a concerned tone. Enjolras shrugged.

"I don't know."

Andrew glared at him. "See, I know you're lying. I saw her! ROSIE!" He shouted. Rosie timidly stepped out, now wearing underwear and Enjolras' white undershirt. Andrew stared at her for moment. "_What in the WORLD_ are you WEARING!" Rosie looked at him sheepishly, and wanted to explain, but Andrew wouldn't give her any time to.

"Rosie, you've been with him since SATURDAY! Do you honestly think that people won't talk? They'll call you so many things; a whore, slut, tra-"

"Stop it, Andrew!" Rosie yelled. "No one's going to call me that! I'm not Katie!"

Enjolras listened as Andrew continued to yell at Rosie, internally cringing as he called her stupid, a disgrace, a slut... He knew that Rosie was none of those things, but that was what made it so painful. But the pain for her turned into anger toward Andrew, and he pulled Andrew's shirt, making him face him.

"Listen," Enjolras stated. "You may be her older brother, but you can't talk to her like that. She doesn't deserve it."

"You know what I think?" Andrew hissed. "I think you should mind your own business, pretty boy." Enjolras began to argue with him, but Andrew was bigger and wasn't going to listen. He punched Enjolras square in the jaw and he staggered backwards, holding his jaw.

"Son of a-"

"ANDREW!" Rosie finally shrieked. "WHAT THE HELL?" She quickly turned to Enjolras, gently touching his face, trying to look at the bruise forming quickly along his jawline. "I'll go get some ice..."

Andrew grabbed her arm and told her outright that she was going home.

"No, I'm not."

And she walked straight past Andrew, going to get ice for Enjolras' jaw. When she returned, her brother had left. Rosie didn't care though, and quickly wrapped the ice up in a washcloth, taking it to Enjolras. He held it tenderly to his jaw.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"No problem," she said. "Did he say anything else?" Enjolras shook his head. Rosie felt relieved, and got up to shower.

A half hour later, the two teenagers were walking down The Magnificient Mile, Rosie eating strawberry gelato while stealing spoonfuls of Enjolras' chocolate ice cream.

"Hey!" Enjolras exclaimed. "Eat your own!"

"But I like chocolate..." Rosie pouted. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

Rosie's face dropped quickly, though. She knew Andrew would tell her parents and she couldn't face them. She just couldn't. Enjolras would be fine, guys are always held at a different standard, they always have been. She didn't need to fret over him.

"I don't want to go home..." She whispered softly, just loud enough for Enjolras to hear. He put an arm around her shoulders, looking at Rosie curiously. She let out a soft sigh. "Andrew's going to tell my parents. I just know it. I can't face them, Enjolras. I can't... I can't..." They both stopped and Enjolras placed his hands comfortingly on her shoulders.

"Rosie... I can help you." He told her. "If you want, you can stay with me-"

"Yes... Because your parents want me to stay in their house." She grumbled. Enjolras smiled slightly and wrapped his arms around her.

"Or we could just never go home..." He murmured into her ear. Rosie scoffed.

"Yes, great idea. Let's run immediately away to Canada and get you into the lumber business. Fantastic."

"Canada?" Enjolras questioned. "Really?"

"No, moron! I was being sarcastic! We could never run away!"

"And why not!" Enjolras argued. "We're smart, resourceful, I have money... Tell me how it wouldn't work."

"One, we don't know where we're going," Rosie began. "Two, if we DID know where we were going, we wouldn't have anywhere to stay. And three, we wouldn't be able to go to school and we still need to graduate."

"But other than that, why wouldn't we go?" Enjolras inquired.

"People talk, Enjolras."

She continued down the sidewalk as Enjolras trailed after her. He eventually reached her and grabbed her arm. She turned to face him, an evident look rage on her face.

"You don't think I know that?" He asked her. "I know very well that people talk!"

"You obviously don't, seeing as you think we can just run away and everything will be alright." She took a deep breath. "I would love to run away with you, don't get me wrong, but the place I want to go is way too far away."

"Tell me."

"Paris." Rosie said.

Enjolras stared at her. "So I'm the unrealistic one, while you want to run away to Paris? Jesus, Rosie, if you think people talk here, can you imagine what wealthy foriegners, or, I guess, natives, would think of two teenagers living together just out of high school!"

"I know, I know... It was stupid. Just forget about it, okay?" Rosie let out a soft sniff, and began to walk. Enjolras quickly devised a plan.

"You know," he called after her. "They'd probably take it better if we were..." Rosie turned to glance at him and he trailed off. "If we were... If we..."

"You've got my attention now; spit it out, Enjolras." She stated impatiently.

"If we were married..." Enjolras finished shyly. He was almost ashamed of himself for talking that way. He NEVER talked about love, romance, or marriage. This was a new level for him.

Rosie's heart flip-flopped inside her chest. Married? Them? She couldn't see it. But... If Enjolras could, it had to be plausible, she figured.

But just as quickly as he had said that thought, he blew it off. Rosie walked alongside him, her shoulders curved defeatedly, and they sunk even lower as they passed Cartier Inc., watching as a young woman who couldn't be much older than herself walk out with her fiancé, a gorgeous ring on her finger. Enjolras caught this and steered her away, only to pass Tiffany & Co. Rosie let out a broken moan of sadness.

"Really..?" She mumbled into his shoulder. He sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"I still haven't solved my problem with my parents."

"Let's go discuss it over lunch, Rose." Enjolras decided, and the two went into a small diner to talk.

* * *

**Aww! Awkward Enjolras is awkward! But you gotta love him. Rosie does, at least. And I don't know if the "running away" thing will happen; I've considered maybe when I finish this story, I'll write a companion for it. Thoughts?**

**-TheClassof1832**


	15. Chapter 15

**A brief update on HOMECOMING!:**

**The four reviews I got last chapter all voted on a different theme; "An Italian Serenade", "Legends of Camelot", "Written in the Stars", and "A Night in Paris". I'll need a tiebreaker. **

**And on the topic of queen and king, Enjolras/Rosie and Combeferre Christie are tied. I _will _make a pt. 2 vote, but I still might make 'Ferre and Christie win.**

**Also, HOLY CRAP I GET TO SEE LES MIS IN NOVEMBER IN ST. LOUIS! *runs around like crazed fangirl* ENJY, ENJY, ENJY, ENJ- *squeeeee!* **

**Ahem... Anyway, this is a nice filler chapter with all our couples, including - sadly - Marius and Cosette. It's a soft chapter, not exactly fluffy, but cute.**

* * *

Thursday brought a movie night at the Zane house; practically their whole group was invited, even Eponine, Marius and Cosette. Rosie came out of the guest bedroom in grey sweatpants and a red tank top, claiming the couch before anyone else arrived. Katie flounced out of the kitchen in her favorite pink nightgown, carrying a bowl of popcorn.

"Rosie, don't take up the whole couch!" She exclaimed. "Leave room for Christie and me! Or maybe Enjolras..." She smiled devilishly. Rosie rolled her eyes.

Christie emerged from her room with navy sleep shorts and a grey t-shirt on; she had a book tucked under her arm and her weekend glasses on. (She wore contacts to school.) Unlike her sister, she didn't give Rosie any grief about taking up the whole couch, and curled up in an armchair, reading.

"So," Katie said, "what movies have you picked out, Rosie?"

Rosie sat up and grabbed the stack. "Um, _The Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, Evita, Young Frankenstein, Catch Me if You Can, _and _Star Wars IV, V, and VI._" Katie wrinkled her nose.

"Which Phantom?" She questioned.

"The Lon Chaney silent film." Rosie replied.

"Good; if I had to sit through anymore "Gerik" I would've thrown myself off a bridge..." Christie muttered from her corner. "And Miz is the 25th Anniversary, right?"

"No, the 10th." Rosie told her. "I'm afraid that Enjolras would go on a fanboy rant about Ramin, and... Yeah."

Around six, Katie ordered pizza, and the boys came about fifteen minutes later. Enjolras sat down with Rosie, who ended up curled into his side. Katie put in Phantom and Enjolras watched amusedly as Rosie tried not to watch.

"Are you seriously scared of this?" He whispered to her. She nodded and buried her face in his shirt. "Why?"

"It's some messed up shit for the 1920s!" She explained.

"Actually, the movie industry of the early twentieth century created some of the screen's most famous horror films," Combeferre stated. "In fact, movie theaters across the country kept smelling salts on hand when this movie was released. Many people thought that Lon Chaney's makeup would make women faint in terror. I believe, if I read right, some actually did."

"Fascinating," Courfeyrac sarcastically drawled. Marius and Cosette were both ignorant to the facts Combeferre had just spewed, and were cowering together. Courfeyrac smirked at the pair, as did Eponine.

Once Phantom was done, Rosie tortured herself again with the 10th Anniversary concert of Les Miserables. She had nothing against most of the leads, she adored Anthony Crivello (Grantaire) the most, but Michael Ball and Michael Maguire just rubbed her the wrong way. They both had great voices, but she couldn't understand their acting. At all.

"What's up with Grandpa Valjean?" Courfeyrac mumbled. Combeferre began to open his mouth to reply, but was shushed by everyone else.

There were other complaints; mostly toward a super geeky, ridiculous, hammy Marius. But then Enjolras raised a funny point.

"Why is the Grantaire... Acting so... Gay?" He asked. Rosie shrugged.

"I love Crivello's Grantaire, actually. He's very sarcastic and completely funny." Rosie said softly. "He's entertaining while Maguire's blinking is distracting me... So much..."

The stack of movies became shorter and shorter, and by Star Wars, everyone was falling asleep. Rosie's head was resting on Enjolras' shoulder, while he had his head propped up with his hand. Marius and Cosette had gone home some time during Evita, while Eponine had stayed behind, now sleeping on the floor in front of the TV. Christie had gone to her room, and her sister had gone upstairs with Courfeyrac. Combeferre was the only one watching Star Wars. He drove Eponine home afterwards, then went home himself.

Enjolras suddenly woke up and yawned. It was three in the morning and the whole house was silent. Rosie was curled up against him and he sighed. Very gently, he got up, put a blanket over Rosie, and crept out the front door.

When Rosie woke up on Friday, she went about her usual schedule; shower, get dressed, brush hair, eat breakfast, brush teeth, go to school. But it was HOMECOMING FRIDAY, and the school was all abuzz. Rosie couldn't help being excited either, despite the fact that her quarterback boyfriend wouldn't play for the rest of the year.

"Hey, Mitchell!" heckled Robert Tholoymes, the school creep. "How's old Enjolras? Probably isn't happy that a freshman's playing in his place, huh?"

"Oh, shut up," Rosie sighed, breezing past him.

Tholomyes continued to pick on her though. "How's it like to have a cripple for a boyfriend, hu-"

Enjolras slammed him up against the lockers out of nowhere, practically towering over the short menace.

"Just because I only have one hand doesn't mean I can't snap you in half, Tholomyes." Enjolras growled.

Tholomyes just smirked. "I'd like to see you try, toothpick."

Luckily, Courfeyrac and Combeferre intervened; Combeferre leading Enjolras away, while Courfeyrac flipped Tholomyes off. Rosie laughed slightly; Courfeyrac didn't take anyone's crap, much like Enjolras, but he was more colorful about it.

She caught up with Enjolras and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Don't worry about him," she whispered. "Besides, you've got a big game to look forward to."

"I know. But I won't play," he grumbled.

"You'll still do great."

* * *

**Ah, 'Ferre. Always spewing random facts. And anyone recognize Tholomyes? I thought he'd be a good nuisance, even though he wasn't the same age as the Amis. **

**Remember to vote!**

**Oh, and about Enjolras' comment on Crivellos's Grantaire, I'm not saying anything offensive toward the gay community, I actually have a good guy friend who is, but that was honestly what I thought when I first saw Crivello's Grantaire. But don't get me wrong; the man's amazing! He was my first live Phantom! **

**~TheClassof1832**

**PS**

**1924 Phantom is creepy; do NOT watch the unmasking at two a.m.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay so... I got a lot of responses on the homecoming theme, and I've decided that the theme will be...**

**A Night in Paris! **

**I know, I know, "_It's Les Miserables, that's so expected." _Yeah, I know. And now, there's going to be the homecoming parade and game. Next chapter is devoted to the dance!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Les Mis, Victor Hugo would be continually spinning in his grave. So I don't.**

* * *

Enjolras walked out toward the Varsity football team float, only to be steered away by Courfeyrac.

"Hey, genius, don't you remember? You and Rosie are the Junior Attendants." He reminded. Enjolras nodded slightly.

He vaguely remembered the announcement that he and Rosie were the Junior Attendants this year; which, unlike at other schools, meant that they were also possible choices for King and Queen. The only two sets of attendants, of course, who were not eligible were the Freshman and Sophomore attendants. Enjolras walked over to where Rosie was, which was by some car that a big sponsor dealership had let school use for the parade.

Rosie's dad, though, was driving the car. As word spread through the parking lot that everyone should be getting ready to start, Enjolras helped Rosie in and - because each Attendant car was a convertible of some form - sat next to her, an arm protectively around her waist.

He looked around at the other cars and saw that Robyns was one of the senior attendants, and that Blanche was the freshman attendant. Enjolras nodded supportively to the kid, who seemed a little... Fidgety. Blanche nodded back and turned forward, putting on a mask of seriousness. Enjolras was impressed; Blanche seemed to have a decent head on his shoulders as he'd thought.

Rosie seemed fairly distant through the whole parade, though she played her part well; she smiled and waved to middle schoolers and elementary children, throwing candy and beads out to large groups of them. But other times, she'd just stare at the back of her Dad's head.

"Rosie," Enjolras whispered as he waved to a group of Jr. Tackle kids. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine."

He didn't press her into talking, but he knew better. She was hurting in some way, and he wanted to help. But she wouldn't let him, and knew better than to force her into talking.

After the parade, she quickly left, not saying a single word. Enjolras walked over to the guys and tried to be cheerful.

"Alright," Courfeyrac said, clamping his hands on Blanche's shoulders and shaking him playfully. "This kid right here is gonna lead us to victory! You hear that? We're going to win tonight!"

There were shouts of "YEAH!" and "SCREW GUARDSTON!" and other things like that. Enjolras stepped in the center of the crowd, raising his hands above his head to request silence. The team who had grown so used to his leadership hushed, and Enjolras lowered his hands, turned to Blanche, and extended his good one to him.

"Sorry it's not my right, but welcome to the team, Ryne." He stated. Ryne took his hand and shook it cheerfully. The football players all cheered, and Ryne smiled widely.

A thing should be noted about Ryne Blanche; ever since he was a sixth grader, and Enjolras an eighth grader, he had idolized the older student. He'd been at every eighth grade Jr. Tackle game that year, and followed Frosh football like a fanatic. Enjolras was his hero. (Well him and Peyton Manning, but that's beside the point.)

"Enjolras, is everything alright with you and Rosie?" Combeferre inquired as they left. Enjolras shrugged.

"She's been a little quiet lately." He replied. "Why?"

"Because, before you were over with her, she and her dad got into a huge fight. It wasn't pretty."

Enjolras sighed. Of course.

The hours dragged painfully by. Once it was gametime, Enjolras sat on the bench on the stupid khakis that every player feared. They meant ineligble; either your grades had dropped, you hadn't been at enough practices, or you were injured. Enjolras was only injured, which upset him. Blanche was doing well, though, so he was pleased.

But then out of nowhere, a huge Guardston linemen brought him down, Ryne's helmet tumbling onto the field. The kid wasn't getting up. They had only a minute left before the halftime show. Enjolras rushed onto the field with Coach Boubil.

"Blanche," Boubil said. "Blanche, where does it hurt?"

"My... My neck..." Ryne mumbled. Boubil signaled for them to bring out a stretcher. Enjolras turned and ran into the locker room. Courfeyrac followed after him.

"What are you doing?" Courfeyrac asked as Enjolras began to change into his uniform.

"It's my fault Blanche is hurt. And he's hurt bad. I'm going to play."

"Are you nuts? Boubil will never let you-"

"I'm going to play." Enjolras stated, and he shoved past Courfeyrac, fully dressed, helmet in hand. He jogged out.

In the stand there were whispers of curiousity.

"Is that Enjolras?"

"He's injured..."

Coach Boubil turned to face him and sighed. He wasn't going to send out Enjolras when he couldn't use his throwing hand.

"I'm not letting you play." He told him. Enjolras stared at him coldly.

"I'm going to play, coach. I'm going to play left handed."

Gavroche Thenardier, the team's waterboy and unofficial mascot, ran up to Enjolras. "You show them, Enjolras!" He exclaimed. "You show 'em why you're number one!" Enjolras ruffled his hair playfully and grinned.

"I will, kiddo."

Boubil could tell he was determined, and stepped back. Enjolras ran out onto the field, leading the Steamers offensive line back onto the field. The crowd roared and he smiled as he got the ball and snapped it to Pontmercy, who ran it far enough for a first down. Then it was halftime.

Rosie climbed up the stand-thing (she had never remembered the proper name for where she stood as drum major), and called her band to attention. They began to play their Phantom medley, then playing the school loyalty, which sounded a lot like the University of Illinois Oskee Wow Wow song. Then the two teams came back out to do quick stretches before starting the second half.

The Steamers defense held the weak Guardston offense back successfully for the third quarter, and Joly managed to kick a successful field goal, giving the Steamers a 10-0 lead over their biggest rival.

But in the forth, the bend-but-don't-break Steamers defense broke. Guardston scored a touchdown, giving Schonberg less room for error. Enjolras ended up having to run for a touchdown when he was nearly sacked, securing the game in Schonberg's favor with two minutes left. Montparnasse sacked the Guardston quarter back twice, preventing any big play to be attempted by them.

Everyone celebrated wildly, everyone except Rosie. She sat quietly on the band bleachers, waiting for Enjolras. He noticed her through the crowd of students who had rushed the field. Forcing his way out, he ran over to her.

"Hey," he mumbled. "You want to grab a bite to eat? Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Christie, Katie and I are going to Steak n' Shake..."

"Sure..." Rosie answered softly.

Enjolras sat down next to her and took her hand. "Combeferre told me about the fight. I'm sorry. But you can't sit around and think about it; that only makes it worse. Enjoy yourself! It's homecoming!"

Rosie smiled at him and pecked him on the lips. "You're right. Thanks Enjolras."

He smiled to himself as he went into the locker room.

"No. Thank you..."

* * *

**AWWWW! Gavroche! So cuteeee! And I'm not exactly sure what to do with Ryne. Poor kid... I don't want him injured super badly, but enough where Enjolras feels a bit guilty and keeps an eye on him for the rest of the year. **

**~TheClassof1832**


	17. Chapter 17

**Oh wow, it's the homecoming dance chapter! Yay! This a fluffy then sad chapter, if you must know. **

**And I might write four more chapters for this story, then I'm going to revisit Apollo and Athena, or at least the characters. The title might change.**

* * *

Although it was only noon on the Saturday of the homecoming dance, Katie was already fluttering around the Zane household, making sure everything was perfectly in place for getting ready later. Rosie looked at her curiously as she turned off the TV. (Rosie was secretly thankful, though, because she had to watch Love Never Dies for Mackintosh's theater class.)

"What do you need, Katie?" She questioned. Katie placed her hands on her hips.

"You've got to promise me that you won't make a big deal out of it when you and Enjolras win queen and king." Katie replied. Rosie stared at her like she had gone mad. She and Enjolras, homecoming queen and king?

"He and I won't win."

Katie wasn't buying it; the student body loved Rosie and Enjolras. They were almost guaranteed queen and king. Enjolras would definitely make a protest about being king again, after he was written in last year as an underclassmen. Rosie would stay quiet about it of course; she was widely hated by the female student body, but was still respected by the majority of the school.

Katie stormed upstairs, leaving Rosie to suffer Ben Lewis' Dracula voice alone.

Meanwhile, at Enjolras' house, Jehan was "fanboying" over the London cast of Love Never Dies. Enjolras and Combeferre had begged him to turn off the music multiple times, but he wouldn't, leaving Enjolras no choice but to learn the lyrics.

"TIL I HEAR YOU SIIIIIIIINNNNGGGG," He sang loudly right in Jehan's ear. "ONCE MOOOOOOOORRRRREEEEEEE!" All the guys laughed loudly as Jehan cringed.

"Enjolras?" Jehan mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Stick to football."

Enjolras grinned and sat down on his bed, grabbing a book and lying back, kicking Courfeyrac in the back on accident. Courfeyrac shoved his feet off the bed, and Enjolras sat up. He stared at himself in the reflection of the windowpane. Enjolras noted that he would need a haircut soon; the ends of his hair were beginning to curl wildly, and he had to constantly brush his hair out of his eyes.

"Hey!" Courfeyrac turned to him. "Can I cut your hair?" Enjolras shook his head.

"No. Why would I trust you with my hair?" Enjolras snapped.

Courfeyrac shrugged.

And so the guys let their ears bleed more from Love Never Dies music.

At about five, Rosie was almost done dressing. Katie entered her room, watching as she zipped up the back of her dress, the skirt making soft ruffling noises as she walked. Katie watched her with envy, thinking about how Rosie had gotten the guy. Katie had adored Enjolras since freshman year, but he'd never paid any mind to her.

"Oh, Katie!" Rosie exclaimed. "Could you hand me my nylons? The sheer thigh-highs on the chair, please."

Katie picked them up, but didn't hand them immediately to her.

"Katie?" Rosie inquired.

"Here," Katie said gruffly, tossing the nylons to her... Friend. Rosie put them on and grabbed her soft red, almost pink, heels.

Katie watched angrily as Rosie practically floated downstairs when the doorbell rang. Christie noticed her sister's envy, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Katie shooed her away, frustrated. She didn't understand; what did Rosie have that she didn't?

"Since when has Rosie been so lovely?" Katie grumbled. Christie shrugged slightly.

"She always has been," she replied. "It just took Enjolras to pull it out of her. He has that way with people you know. He challenges people to be the best that they can be, to rise up and be as great as he is. Apparently Rosie shines just as bright as he does."

Katie stormed downstairs and joined Courfeyrac, who was, as usual, in good spirits. Rosie was curled into Enjolras' side, the both of them practically glowing in the other's presence. It was adorable to most, but Katie had to use all her self control to not rip Rosie's dress to shreds like the stepsisters in Cinderella. Rosie didn't deserve Prince Charming. She did.

But not unlike most people in love, Rosie was completely ignorant to Katie's jealousies. All that mattered to her in that moment was Enjolras; her Apollo, her "Marble Lover of Liberty". He smiled down at her and she felt like she could just float right through the clouds and soar over the moon.

At the dance, everyone was happy, sitting at a table and chatting as usual. Then Principal Valjean stepped onto the stage in the gymnasium. He tapped the microphone.

"Would the nominees for Homecoming King and Queen please come to the front of the gym? That would be Katie Zane and Antony Courfeyrac, Julien Enjolras and Rosie Mitchell, Christie Zane and Laurent Combeferre, and Jon Robyns and Madalena Alberto."

Rosie gulped. It was tradition for the possible Kings and Queens to all partake in a waltz before announcing the winners. Think of the Yule Ball in Harry Potter, and how the chosen witches and wizards lead the first dance. Enjolras and Rosie walked to the front, getting in place between Combeferre and Christie, and Courfeyrac and Katie. Enjolras placed one hand on Rosie's waist, her left hand resting gently on his shoulder. Enjolras took her free hand in his just as the music began to play. The whole student body watched as each couple glided easily and effortlessly across the floor, making it look as if the waltz was just some thing that you can just do.

When the song, The Blue Danube Waltz, (the song they'd used forever for the big dance before the "coronation"), was over, Principal Valjean stepped up once more to the microphone.

"And now, your 2012 Homecoming King and Queen." He declared. "Your Homecoming King... Julien Enjolras. And your Queen is Rosie Mitchell."

Katie fumed angrily as Enjolras and Rosie walked onto the stage, her heart bursting with jealousy as the small tiara for the Homecoming Queen was placed on Rosie's head. She and the others who hadn't won were deemed "Dukes and Duchesses" and received sashes to represent their belonging to the Homecoming Court.

Enjolras leapt off the edge of the stage, landing perfectly in front of it. He held his hand out to Rosie, and as she jumped down, she kicked her legs out slightly and Enjolras caught her, spinning her around before putting her down. Some of the students wolf-whistled or hollered at them, and Rosie blushed.

The song chosen for the two to share their "first dance" was chosen by Jehan. Of course, because of his recent Love Never Dies obsession, he chose "Til I Hear You Sing". Enjolras inwardly groaned as he and Rosie began to dance.

Katie glowered in a corner, not saying a word to Courfeyrac or anyone.

When the song was over, everyone applauded and Rosie and Enjolras went back to their friends. Enjolras removed the gold, plastic crown on his head and tossed it to Courfeyrac.

"Here." He grumbled. "I don't want it."

Katie eyed the sparkling tiara that was still on Rosie's head, following her when she excused herself to go to the restroom.

Rosie was busy reapplying her silver eyeliner when Katie snatched her tiara off her head.

"Hey!" Rosie exclaimed.

"I deserve this crown." Katie growled. "Not YOU!"

And before she could tell what she was doing, Katie lunged at Rosie, ripping at her dress, pulling her hair, scratching and punching. Miss Fantine walked into the restroom to find the two, pulling Katie off of Rosie using all her strength.

"IT'S MINE!" Katie screamed angrily. "MINE! NOT HERS!"

Principal Valjean rushed into the bathroom, taking Katie out and forcing her to leave the dance. Miss Fantine helped Rosie up, sighing to herself at the sight of the tattered dress.

"The same thing happened to me at your age," she told her. "Let me see what we can do to fix this, okay?"

And so Rosie stood on a stack of dictionaries as Miss Fantine stitched her dress back to its original appearance. Rosie had never spoken to Miss Fantine much, but she was grateful for her help. She thanked her and returned to the dance.

"What happened?" Enjolras whispered to her.

"Nothing; don't worry about it." Rosie replied distantly. He nodded, and took her back to his house at the end of the dance; he imagined she wouldn't be very welcome at the Zane household. Mrs. Enjolras set up the guest bedroom for Rosie, and smiled slightly at the girl.

Enjolras came in just after his mother had left, carrying old sweats and a t-shirt.

"It's not much," he said. "But they should be comfortable for sleeping."

Rosie smiled. "Thank you," she pecked his cheek. "Goodnight, Enjolras."

"Goodnight, Rosie."


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay, so I bring you, in this chapter, the "Schonberg High School Christmas Special"... Two months and some odd days early! **

**This is mostly because I LOVEZ CHRISTMAS. And so does another Ami, as we're going to learn. (And its not Enjolras.)**

**Here we go!**

* * *

It was the day before the start of Christmas and Jehan was happily spreading Christmas Cheer through the hallways. He sang Christmas Carols, held mistletoe above couples talking in front of lockers, all while wearing an elf hat. The majority of the Amis were used to Jehan's "Christmas Fever", but it was the first year Enjolras had a girlfriend during the season, so Jehan decided to take advantage of it.

"I already told you," Rosie said in a soft voice as she closed her locker. "You don't have to get me anything for Christmas, Enj."

"But what if I already got you something?" Enjolras inquired, leaning next to her. Jehan skipped up to them and held the mistletoe in between the two, grinning adorably. Enjolras glanced up at the mistletoe, scowling. "Jehan..."

"Aw, Enjolras," Jehan sighed. "Don't be so glum! It's Christmas! Now kiss her!"

Enjolras walked past Jehan and entered his English class, opening his book angrily, turning to the dog-eared page in The DaVinci Code, reading until class began.

The strict teacher, Mr. Blondeau, confiscated the novel right when the bell rang.

"HEY!" Enjolras yelled. "That's my book! I was almost done, too..."

"I will not have my students reading this garbage." Blondeau stated. "Here, Julien. Perhaps this book will be better for you." Blondeau set down a copy of _The Once and Future King _on Enjolras' desk. "I suggest you read the whole novel, Julien, and I expect a five-page report first thing after break."

With that, Blondeau continued down the rows of desks, confiscating novels he disapproved of, exchanging them with classics. When he reached Rosie, her nose was buried in _Angels & Demons_, the prequel to Enjolras' book. Blondeau snatched the book without any hesitation, and grinned wickedly down at her. Enjolras gulped; there was always a student who was given a book that Blondeau knew would hate his recommendation. And this quarter, it looked like Rosie would be his victim._  
_

Usually, Blondeau picked on the girls, making them read books that the more modest girls, like Rosie, would never read, or making the girls like Katie read books that Rosie would enjoy. Enjolras was sure that Blondeau had some dirty book just waiting to be placed on her desk in a little black sack.

At this point, I'm sure one is wondering why Mr. Blondeau has never been fired for forcing students to read such awful books. The truth of the matter is, he is widely respected by the school board, and most girls don't have the nerve to tell anyone what he makes them read.

"Ah, and Miss Mitchell." Blondeau practically hissed. "I believe you enjoy fairy tales, correct?" Rosie glanced up at him.

"No, not really. I enjoy Jane Austen novels."

Blondeau glared at her and snatched her book, slamming down the dreaded black bag on her desk. Rosie gulped.

She peeked in the bag, staring disgustedly into it.

"I refuse to read this." She stated, standing up. "Do you know how sexist it is of you to single out one girl every month and make them read a book like this?" She threw the copy of Judy Blume's _Forever, _the once banned book landing at Blondeau's feet. "I might read books that are questionable by the standards of the Church, but this is NOT a Catholic school. Give me a real book, Mr. Blondeau."

"Or what?" Blondeau laughed. "You'll run and tell your father? Oh, that's right, he's mad at you. You don't live with him, even! You can't beat me, little girl."

"But I can." Enjolras said, rising from his desk. "Blondeau, give her a real book, or MY father will here about this."

Blondeau wasn't a fool; Julien Enjolras, Sr. was a very powerful man. Blondeau grabbed some Voltaire volume from his shelves and handed it to Rosie. Rosie took the book and sat back down at her desk contentedly.

The only other decent class of the day was Mr. Mackintosh's class, because it began to snow in the middle of class, drawing everyone away from the clips of some Verdi opera, to the swirling white fluff outside. Even as high schoolers, the whole class loved snow. Jehan jumped up and began to sing "White Christmas" at the top of his lungs, making the Amis smile. Jehan, Joly and Marius were the babies of Les Amis; whenever they were enjoying themselves, it made the others happy. Especially when Jehan was happy.

After school, Rosie found the girls. She and Katie had finally made up, and were back to normal, and things had always been cool with Christie.

"Hey, guys, I need your help." She told them. "I don't know what to get Enjolras for Christmas." Both of the twins stared at her incredulously.

"You mean you haven't gotten him something yet?" Katie inquired. Rosie shook her head. "Are you nuts! I've had Courfeyrac's present since late November!"

"Could you spare me the guilt, please, and just help me!" Rosie exclaimed. Christie nodded.

"Of course."

A few minutes later, the girls were in a Department Store, wandering around, looking for the perfect gift for Enjolras. Suddenly, the object caught Rosie's eye.

"Wonderful!" She noted, picking up the blue, white and red beanie triumphantly. Katie and Christie both nodded in approval; Enjolras loved beanies, and he didn't own a striped one like the one Rosie found.

Rosie happily paid for the hat and wrapped it herself in red shiny paper with a gold bow.

It had been a tradition, since middle school, that the whole group exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve at Enjolras' house, and this year, Rosie was glad that she finally had chosen a pretty good gift for Enjolras. The presents were all sorted by Jehan, who was wearing a Santa hat.

The majority of gifts were in envelopes; usually gift cards for iTunes, or some shop at the mall. But couples or very close friends usually got the other friend a bigger gift. Courfeyrac had gotten Enjolras a Cornell scarf, and Combeferre a biography of some doctor 'Ferre admired. Combeferre had given Courfeyrac a copy of The Hunger Games, and Enjolras a book on the French Revolution.

Enjolras had gotten the two of them both new athletic socks; something the both needed badly, but Enjolras had gone the extra mile, getting ones that we're customized "Schonberg High Athletics" socks.

Katie had gotten Courfeyrac a new scarf, and Christie had given Combeferre her precious copy of Wuthering Heights, complete with a little note in her lovely cursive. Combeferre, in return, had given her his copy of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Courfeyrac gave Katie a pass for "One Free Makeout Session".

But the gifts everyone was waiting to see we're Enjolras' and Rosie's. Enjolras went first, admiring the beanie, and praising the second gift, a copy of Nelson Mandela's _Long Walk to Freedom._ Then Rosie opened her gift. Inside the medium sized box was another box, with another box inside of it. In the next box there was a light blue bag, and in the light blue bag was a ring box. Rosie nearly floated out the window as she opened it, feeling lighter than air. Inside was a small, glittering diamond ring. It was small, but it looked perfect. Just... Perfect.

"Are you feeling okay?" Combeferre asked Enjolras. "That... Is not like you."

"It's like me," Enjolras defended. "I can't do things halfway."

"I can't accept this..." Rosie mumbled.

Enjolras took the ring box from her hands and got down on one knee. "Rosie, please. Make me the happiest man on Earth. Marry me?"

"W-When?" Rosie gasped.

"Whenever you want." Enjolras said. "I can wait."

"Alright. After college."

"Is that a yes?"

Rosie nodded. "Yes."

"It's a Christmas Miracle!" Jehan cheered.

* * *

**D'awwwww! I LOVEZ me some Jehan and I lovez me some proposals. Crazy Enjolras! He got to take a trip down OOC lane, but, I guess, he doesn't do anything halfway, so... I guess if he had a girlfriend he'd definitely marry her... So... Yeah...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Oooooh! Springtime! And in Mr. Mackintosh's theater class, that means SHAKESPEARE! Jehan is excited, as am I! Here we gooooo!**

* * *

Rosie quietly fiddled with the ring on her finger, trying to pay attention to Mr. Mackintosh, but it was hard. Mrs. Enjolras had invited her to go into Chicago with her, Mr. Enjolras, and Enjolras, which didn't sound like such a good idea.

_"It'll be good fun," _she had said. _"Besides, you're practically part of the family now."_

Enjolras had told her not to be nervous; that his parents' bark was worse than their bite. But Rosie wasn't so sure. Mr. Enjolras hated her, and if they were staying the weekend... She was sure they were expecting her to slip up somehow.

"Anyway, we are going to be reading A Midsummer Night's Dream in class, then the cast I select will perform the show for the school." Mr. Mackintosh stated. Enjolras listened intently; he had always enjoyed Shakespeare. "Let's start with Theseus and Hipplotya. I think... Courfeyrac and Katie would play the two well. And Philostrate will be... Ah! Combeferre! Wonderful! Egeus will be Lesgles, and his daughter Hermia will be played by Christie. As for Demetrius..." Mackintosh skimmed over his class. "Enjolras! And Lysander will be Jehan. Rosie, you may be Helena."

"And the fairies and mechanicals?" Grantaire inquired.

"Oh yes! Oberon will be Joly, and Titania will be Makenzie. Any extras we have will make up the rest of the fairies. Peter Quince will be Feuilly, Bottom will be played by Grantaire, and... Whoever wants to be the rest of the mechanicals can be them."

Everyone scattered around, making deals on the minor parts until everyone was set up. Nobody wanted to do the project, but it was a Mackintosh tradition.

After class, Enjolras and Rosie spent their free period out on the football field, running around, pretending to make plays, when they were heckled.

"Hey, Enjolras!" Tholoymes yelled. "Didn't anyone tell you it's baseball season?"

"Yeah! And by the way, YOU THROW LIKE A GIRL!" Enjolras taunted. Tholoymes glared at him, but was too big of a coward to do anything about it. Rosie had used this distraction to snag the football from Enjolras and began to run toward the opposite end zone.

Enjolras whirled around and began to jog after her.

"Mitchell intercepts the ball!" Rosie cried while she ran. "Julien Enjolras tails her as she passes into the Schonberg 35!"

Enjolras picked up speed, lightly tackling his girlfriend, grinning down at her. Rosie blushed and dropped the football.

"First down," she whispered. Enjolras began to lean in when a horn honked. The teenagers looked over to the road to see Mr. and Mrs. Enjolras glaring at them.

Enjolras nearly leapt off of Rosie, leading her over to his car. "I'll drive you to Katie and Christie's, then pick you up at four." He stated.

"Alright." Rosie checked her watch; it was three. Perfect.

The car ride was silent, as if no one wanted to talk about the elephant in the room... Er, car... In all honesty, both of them were nervous about the Chicago weekend. Rosie hadn't worn her engagement ring on her finger since Christmas (until today), keeping it on a silver chain. And there was also the fact that their room was adjoining, with Enjolras' parents next door.

Rosie packed for the weekend, trying to choose things that were pretty and feminine, but wouldn't be deemed inappropriate by Mrs. Enjolras. Katie stared in disgust at the red pencil skirt and white blouse Rosie had put on to go.

"You look like a nun."

Rosie walked over and picked up the red heels she planned on wearing, showing them to Katie.

"Better?"

Katie nodded. "Yeah."

"ROSIE!" Christie shouted from downstairs. "YOUR ESCORT IS HERE!"

Rosie rolled her eyes, and ran downstairs. Enjolras was standing by the door, his presence still intimidating, even though Rosie had seen more of him than most. He smiled when he saw her, but the cute moment was quickly interrupted. Mrs. Enjolras knocked on the door and was let in by Christie.

"Julien!" She chided. "We have to go! Rosie, come along." Enjolras and Rosie trailed after her.

Mrs. Enjolras and Rosie sat in the backseat of Mr. Enjolras' Mercedes, while Enjolras sat up front with his father. Rosie caught herself fiddling with her engagement ring and cursed inwardly. She hadn't taken it off! Mrs. Enjolras spied the ring.

"Aren't you wearing that on the wrong finger, dear?" She questioned, not looking at Rosie but at her son. Rosie blushed.

"I-I am. It must've slipped my mind..." Rosie put the ring on her right hand instead of her left. Enjolras quickly changed the subject.

"Rosie, did I tell you the plan for this evening?" Enjolras asked, turning to face her. Rosie shook her head. "Well, we're having an early dinner, then going to see... What show, mom?"

"Catch Me If You Can." Mrs. Enjolras replied.

"Oh, I love the original cast of that show! Aaron Tveit is so se- Er, talented!" Rosie blushed and stared intently at her shoes.

"Isn't he playing Enjolras in the Les Mis movie?" Mr. Enjolras questioned.

"Yep! It's funny, though. While he's blonde, the real one - Julien - looks more or less like Ramin." Rosie mumbled.

After the awkward car ride, the rest of the night went off without a hitch. Until they checked into the hotel. It was obvious, once again, that the Enjolrases were trying to intimidate Rosie, but she wasn't willing to give them the pleasure of seeing her nervous or overwhelmed.

"Hey, dad. I thought you only stayed at The Sutton Place for business." Enjolras whispered as he and his father hiked up the stairs together.

"I want to see if your girlfriend, or, should I say, fiancée can handle staying in a fancy place like this." Mr. Enjolras said.

"Well, she can."

"I sure hope so."

Rosie and Enjolras entered their room, which was actually across the hall from Enjolras' parents. The two of them debated over who got which bed, and ended up sharing the one closest to the window. Enjolras changed into pajamas first, wearing an old football roster tee and flannel pants. Rosie took a lot longer to change; brushing her hair out until it waved perfectly over her shoulders, adjusting her nightgown until it laid perfectly on herself.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Enjolras breath hitched slightly.

"You are... Beautiful. " He managed as she climbed into bed and curled into his side. Rosie smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

Enjolras wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

"You know you're not getting away with just that..." He murmured. Rosie smirked.

"Your parents are just across the hall..." Rosie whispered as Enjolras gently kissed her neck. He stopped for a moment, his warm breath tickling her neck.

"Forget them. It's just you and me, Rosie."

* * *

**Not my longest chapter, but pretty good, I think. AND I NEED SOME AARONJOLRAS SOON! The teasers and extended first look barely show him! It makes me sad...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Annnndddd I am now exclusively Les Mis fandom here on FanFiction! Finally done with Percy Jackson, which makes me overjoyed. Now I am completely Enjolras's and the Ami's. ;) **

**Also, I am having problems waiting for the damn movie to come out! I doodled mini Amis in science class a few days ago! And I DON'T DRAW. (My friend told me Enjy looked like a girl; I almost threw the paper at her.)**

**So yeah...**

* * *

Rosie was glad that the weekend seemed to fly by after her and Enjolras' scandalous evening that Friday. She was mainly excited for the end of Junior year. It was getting closer; perhaps less than a month, since it was almost May.

"Rosie?" Enjolras inquired, while they were having a picnic one day after one of his baseball games. "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"I don't know... Married to you, working as a music teacher or a band director somewhere." She replied. "Why? Where do you see yourself?"

Enjolras just shrugged and turned away, avoiding the question. To be honest, he had no idea where he would be in ten years. Letters from Notre Dame and other big football schools had been arriving daily after his fearless stunt at the homecoming game. His father had taped each one he liked onto the fridge. Everyday, Enjolras would have to look at them, the headings from so many great schools; Notre Dame, Michigan, University of Miami, Penn State, Iowa... Even some schools with terrible records were sending letters, as if they thought he would fix all their problems.

His father had thrown out most of those letters, but Enjolras had dug out one: University of Illinois, Champaign. He'd made his father even angrier when he wrote back, saying he was definitely considering their school for football.

"Enjolras?" Rosie's voice pulled him back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"You never answered my question."

"Oh. I... I'm not quite sure yet. I'll follow wherever you lead." He stated.

"This isn't normal for you." Rosie said. "You usually have a lot more to say than just that. Is something wrong?"

"Something wrong? Why would something be wrong?" Enjolras' voice was sharp. "I can't think of anything wrong, other than the fact that my dad is trying to control my life. But let's not talk about th-"

"We should." Rosie cut him off. "It bothers you. You need to say something about it to someone. I'll always listen, you know that."

Enjolras told Rosie everything; about the letters on the fridge, his father's rage when he replied to Illinois' letter, he even added his fear of what his life would be if he just listened to his father. "... Like, what will I be? Some stuck-up, filthy rich NFL quarterback who's married to some super model? I don't want that. I just... Don't. It's not my dream, Rosie. It's my dad's, and he expects me to live it. I want to live in a cozy apartment in New York City, working as a lawyer, helping the people, and have a wife to come home to who sits down and lets me tell her about my day."

"Then maybe I don't fit into that dream," Rosie mumbled.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't you?" Enjolras asked, taking her hands.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because neither of us said anything about... Never mind. Let's not talk about it." Rosie brushed his question aside. Enjolras' eyebrows knit together like they always did when he was concerned.

"Rosie, is there something you're afraid to tell me?" He murmured, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. She met his eyes, but quickly looked away.

"No... I'm fine. Everything's fine. You don't have to worry."

Enjolras wasn't buying it, but didn't force her to tell him what was on her mind. She had been really stressed lately, with the band director pretty much treating her like a slave, even though marching season had been over for a long time. If she didn't want to tell him, she didn't have to.

Yet, in a way, he didn't find that fair. She always got him to talk; why wasn't he allowed to force her to speak? If this was supposed to be a relationship, they both had to share with each other. Enjolras had pulled his weight, now it was time for Rosie to pull hers. He turned to her.

"Rosie, tell me. What's bothering you?" He blurted. Rosie turned to him.

"Katie's pregnant, Enj. And... And it's Courfeyrac's baby. I feel so bad! We all found out yesterday, and we all swore not to tell you. You're too above all this high school drama to be involved, we thought. I'm scared for her, Enjolras. Her parents don't know yet, but it won't be long. They'll figure it out and then what? I-I can't even..." She began to cry. "I'm scared for us, too. What if... What if that happens to us?"

Enjolras wrapped his arms around her, but remained stoic and cold. "How has Courfeyrac responded?"

"He's in denial... We all are, I think. Katie isn't sure what to do. She doesn't want to... You know; it goes against her personal beliefs. But she doesn't want to have the baby either. None of us know what to tell her." Rosie muttered into his shirt.

"She needs to get out of her bubble, first of all," Enjolras stated coldly. "Then she needs to decide; is she going to get rid of the baby or have it and put it up for adoption."

"Enjolras... How can you talk like that? She's our friend... She's in trouble. It's not as easy as that..."

"It is just that easy. Teenage girls, however, have this habit of romanticizing the whole issue. Rosie, you came to me with this problem. I have provided two options for Katie. Tell her I'm sorry, but if her first option goes against her beliefs, she's going to have to become, God forbid, fat, and give birth to a child. She needs to grow up. And now, I think, she finally will."

"How can you be so cold to someone we've grown up with?" Rosie choked. "Katie's really scared right now. So is your friend Courfeyrac. Don't you want to help them?"

"They need to help themselves." Enjolras told her.

Rosie got up from their spot under a nice oak tree, brushing off her jean shorts. "Enjolras, you should be ashamed of yourself. Here you are, flaunting your last name because it's the name of a heroic book character. But you're forgetting something; Enjolras was - in his mind - a man of the people. You're a disgrace to that name, Julien."

Rosie stormed off, leaving him behind. She returned to the Zane's house, to find Christie trying to comfort a broken down Katie.

"B-But we used p-protect-" Katie burst into another sobbing fit, and Christie rubbed her sister's back.

"Home so soon?" Christie asked Rosie.

"I told him." Rosie answered bluntly. Christie's eyes widened.

"What'd he say?"

"Not what I expected he'd say."

"Rosie?" Katie sobbed. "Would you come here?"

Rosie sat down next to Katie on the couch.

"I want you and Christie to promise me something." She sniffed.

"What is it?" Christie inquired. "And we both promise, don't we, Rosie?" Rosie nodded.

"I know I shouldn't force this on you two... B-But would you guys try to get pregnant too? I feel so alone... I can't-"

"Uhh..."

* * *

**Oh boy... Seems like Katie decided to go nutso... And Enjolras decided to be M. Serious as well as Enjolraic... Thoughts? Tell me!**

**-TheClassof1832**


	21. Chapter 21

**Okay, so Les Mis Tour cast looks amazing; their Enjy looks more like a Marius though... Oh well. All Enjys are hot. Unless you're OMGjolras... Drew Sarich, gotta love him. Just kidding. **

**Annnyyywayyyy, this chapter is the second to last, but the last "real" chapter, as the one following it will be the epilogue. **

* * *

"Katie," Christie said in a harsh tone, "you know we could never do that. Enjolras is too cautious and 'Ferre is too... 'Ferre. We'll be here for you, but we're not going to get pregnant just because you are. Right, Rosie?"

Rosie nodded. "Yeah. I mean, could you imagine all three of us having to go through this? It wouldn't be like those silly pregnancy pacts you hear about; we'd be at each other's throats all the time. And not to mention we'd be angry at the guys who did that to us."

"That reminds me!" Katie exclaimed. "I'll have to call Courfeyrac and give him a piece of my mind!" She began to dial his number when Christie knocked the phone out of her hands. "HEY! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?"

"Katie, you're in a very delicate emotional state right now," Christie warned. "If you lash out, there could be some very serious consequences."

"Like if you would've convinced Christie and me to get pregnant." Rosie pointed out. "Enjolras... He would never forgive me if I tried to trick him just because of a silly promise..."

"And 'Ferre would be so disappointed in me," Christie noted. "But you and Courfeyrac have the right energy and outlook to be able to raise a baby. You're both optimistic, are friendly, and compassionate. Katie, you shouldn't be afraid. Courfeyrac will be a great dad. And you'll be a great mo-"

Christie was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. She got up, realizing that Enjolras was standing on the porch. And that it had started pouring.

She let him in, of course, and stood just past the threshold, soaking wet. Rosie tried to focus on the enraged look on his face, and not the way his clothes clung to his body, accenting that perfect, statuesque figure that she has had the rare privilege to be up close and personal with.

"Yes?" She questioned innocently, ignoring the less innocent thoughts going on in her mind. Enjolras frowned deeply.

"I thought you were angry with me." He stated bluntly. Rosie shook her head.

"I think the rain was punishment enough," she told him. "Now. What brings you here?" Enjolras sighed slightly.

"There's a rumor... That, um... You're... Pregnant too, Rosie."

Rosie immediately went from curious to absolutely furious. "OF ALL THE STUPID, IDIOTIC, IMMATURE, INAPPROPRIATE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT ME, PEOPLE CHOOSE THAT? HOW DARE THEY! DO THEY HONESTLY-"

Katie softly cleared her throat. "I have an extra test. We can officially debunk this rumor if you want to."

Rosie stormed into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Overdoing it just a little, Rosie watched all of "Titanic" before checking on the test.

"Rosie?" Christie knocked on the bathroom door, which had been closed again. "Are you alright? You can tell us, you know."

"I-I'm... F-Fine..."

"No you're not. Rose, at least let me in." Enjolras stated, joining Christie outside the bathroom. Rosie opened the door and stepped out, frowning deeply.

"You go look for yourself." She grumbled, walking past the two. Enjolras shuffled into the bathroom, picking up the test.

"No." He mumbled to himself. "This test has to be faulty. There's no other way. It- She can't be... This is impossible..."

And, it should be noted that Julien Enjolras hadn't cried since the second grade, but in that moment, he broke down, sobbing pathetically.

Rosie joined him, crying and burying her face in his shirt. Enjolras held her.

"We-We'll be alright, Rosie. We'll... We'll all be f-fine..." Enjolras' attempt at comforting Rosie was met by more sobbing.

"H-How can you say that!" Rosie wailed. "I'm pregnant! This isn't what was supposed to happen! We were supposed to have... Everything. Now our entire summer and senior year-"

"Rosie, everything happens for a reason." Christie stated. Remember that, will you?"

"I will..."

* * *

_Six Years Later_

Julien Enjolras looked through the crowds at his law school class's graduation; trying to spot his wife and daughter, but he couldn't see either of them. He sighed. As the chosen speakers spoke, Enjolras blocked them out, thinking of the nice job offer he'd gotten from a New York law firm. Though he wasn't speaking that afternoon, it wasn't because he had been a failure; in fact, he had been the top of his class despite the odds against him.

"Julien Enjolras," his name was called to receive his degree. He got up from his seat, accepted it, and shook hands with the appropriate people.

When the ceremony was over, he quickly removed the graduation cap and gown, and went to search for his wife and child.

He found them sitting under a tree on the campus of the university, Rosie reading their daughter, Maria, a book on some ballet. He smiled; Maria spotted him and got up, running to him.

"Daddy!" She shrieked happily, reaching up to him. Enjolras smiled, and obliged, picking up his daughter.

"Congratulations, dear." Rosie said, getting up and kissing Enjolras' cheek.

"Ewwww!" Maria exclaimed. "Mommy don't! Boys have cooties!" Rosie laughed.

"Don't you ever forget that," she told her, pulling one of Maria's golden curls playfully. Maria batted her mother's hand away.

"Don't, mommy! You'wl wuin it!"

Enjolras chuckled, and set Maria back down. The little girl grabbed both her parents' hands as they began to walk to their car.

"I told you we'd be fine," Enjolras whispered to Rosie.

"Well, I hadn't learned that you were always right until now." Rosie pointed out. "But I'm glad I have now."

"Good. And Rosie?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant again? The results from 'Ferre are right here."

"Oh..."

* * *

**That's the end, everybody! Now, I'm in the process of choosing between three new ideas for Enj. Please feel free to share your own as well! I'll make sure to give you credit for them!**

**TheClassof1832 signing off!**


End file.
